Let the Fantasy Begin
by xStormyNightsx
Summary: Christines father had recently passed, her friend Raoul had been engaged to someone else, and with no one to turn to, her life was over. That was until a letter from her father made its way to her. It seemed a dying Gustave had a plan to save her. All she had to do was marry a masked stranger with more secrets then she dared to know. Sounds easy enough? (Rated M for Sex)
1. A Mutual Benefit

I have no idea what I`m doing o-o

Please review?

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This was beginning to get out of hand.

It had started off as a moderate appreciation, walking by only to catch a few of her heavenly verses before walking on. Then it grew more frequent until Erik found himself purposely lurking around those streets, hoping to hear the sweet angel yet again. It only got worse from there, before he knew it he was in her house, wrapped in shadows as he leaned against her door, listening to her sing herself to sleep. The man would like to say it stopped there, he would like to say that it went no further, but the very next day he found himself inside her room. She had already fallen asleep, there was no singing to appreciate, yet he still found himself blessed simply by watching her. It felt like a sick thing to do, but how could he deny the way he craved even a glimpse of her.

Believe it or not, it only grew worse.

Now, Erik`s body shook as he stood there. His fists were painted with the blood of the boy who laid crumpling before him. The boy had worked as a footman in that girl`s house, Erik had seen him during his visits once or twice. Said footman was passing by with some comrade of his when Erik was making his exit for the night. Just as Erik had slipped into an alley, he had heard that boy say those awful, disgusting things.

"Ladies becomin` quite lovely." One whispered to the other.

"The Daae brat? Oh, she`ll look plenty lovely once I get her on her back." The other one sneered.

"Aiming pretty high there, Cal."

"Ya kiddin` me? Do you see the way she looks at that Chagny fellow? She`s a slut if I`ve ever seen one. Oh I assure you, she`ll be beggin` for it."

That`s when he had lost it, his anger reaching a boiling point as he swiftly moved out of the alley, grabbing the damned brat by his throat before ramming him into the wall. The boy`s _friend_ , if he could even be considered that, ran away like the coward he was, leaving Erik alone with the struggling footman.

"Wh-what do you want? Money?" the boy attempted to empty his pockets, but the masked man pulled back and slammed his gloved fist into the boy`s face before another word could be said. Grunting, the boy fell to his knees, barely conscious as the man held his face up to deliver yet another blow. It was wrong. Erik knew it was wrong. But he felt no remorse as he took all his anger and frustrations out on the brat. The boy had lost the will to react a while ago, but Erik held back no savagery. By the time he was done his gloves were drenched, his eyes hard and cold as he watched the boys shaking form.

He was alive.

How unfortunate.

Growling somewhere deep in his throat, Erik found himself turning away, his cloak falling around his frame rather dramatically as he exited the street.

The events of that night had surprisingly made the papers, not as the main story- obviously, a little mugging wasn`t enough for the headline- but as a side-story. Thankfully for Erik, due to the darkness, the boy had no idea what his attacker looked like. According to the article though, the boy had apparently broken his jaw in two places but would survive. The story served as a warning of sorts to the townspeople. Best to stay indoors after dark.

Bitterly, the man placed the newspaper down on the table he had plucked it from. Quietly finishing the breakfast his servants had laid out for him, thinking, contemplating. Oh god, when had things gotten so dark. Just when he was beginning to hit a clean streak, this happened. The egotistical bastard within him decided it was all that girl's fault. Seducing him with her songs, turning him into a slave of her will; all her fault. Even before her he was no saint, but he was getting better. It had been a year with no violent outbursts, almost a year, that streak had just ended now. November 24, 1870. Damn it all.

At least this one survived? At least this one was not a murder.

Oddly, that did not soothe the man`s guilt.

Deciding there was no point in meddling over that which was done, he lifted the paper up yet again. This time his attention turned to the main story. There was apparently some large aristocratic party taking place tonight. How like France to place a party on a higher pedestal than an almost murder.

What an unjust world we live in.

Erik was willing to muddle over that thought a little longer when something caught his eye. That name. Daae. Quickly, he re-read the paper, wondering how he had possibly missed it before. The family hosting said party were none other than the Daae`s. Not only that, but it was a masquerade. How fitting. For a moment, the man wondered if this was fate playing some cruel game with him yet again. Make everything seem so possible only to remind him for the billionth time that what he craved was what he can`t have.

Once again, Erik found himself wishing.

Wishing he hadn`t attended that night, wishing he was nowhere to be seen when Sir Gustave Daae gracefully stepped down the main stairs of his estate, beautiful daughter by his side as he flourished his hands in a welcoming gesture. Erik wished he hadn`t heard the charm in his voice as he asked the guests to treat his home like their own. He sounded like a good man, logical and honest as he toasted the night before whispering something to his daughter and heading off into the party.

It was then that Erik wanted to act, to reach her before anyone else, to plead for a dance no woman could deny. But such thoughts were quickly dismissed from his mind as he saw that man walk up to her. He walked with all the elegance in the world, a smile brighter than the sun graced his lips as he offered her his hand. She took it instantly, dancing away with him as they shared pleasant discussions. She alone lit up the room, and for once in his life Erik felt jealousy unlike anything he had known.

Now don`t misunderstand, the man had spent a good chunk of his life being jealous. Jealous of beauty, jealous of love, jealous of family. Jealousy was a dear friend of his. Just like violence was. The world he grew up in was harsh. You had to fight to survive. Quite literally. And he was ready to fight for this, to fight for her attention. To kill for it.

Erik sighed.

Perhaps these thoughts were a little too rash, making such declarations when he had not even spoken to her yet. How could he be so in love with someone he didn`t know? Ah, but that was it, wasn`t it? It wasn`t that beautiful dancing woman he was in love with. It was that angel, the one with the heavenly voice that he desired. You could learn so much about a person simply by hearing the passion they can pour into a song. And oh, passion was one thing she didn`t lack. He should have known as soon as he heard her sing that he needed her in his life.

With strong guidance, she could become something to behold. And who better to guide her than himself? As said before, the man was no saint, but he did have his strengths. Music, wound undeniably be one of those.

All he needed was a moment to think this through. A moment to decide what he needed to do to have her. Surely, he`d think of something. He wouldn`t let this angel escape him so easily. With that thought in mind, Erik roamed away from the room, eventually ending up in what was no doubt Gustave`s study. He had spent a few curious moments looking over the little Knick knacks that lined the shelves when the door opened.

Two men entered.

Erik wasn`t surprised when they didn`t notice him, shadows had an awful habit of wrapping around him. Hiding him from the world he didn`t wish to be a part of.

"What changed your mind Anthony?" the first man sounded angry as he addressed the other, and as the two moved into the room, Erik recognized the first to be Gustave. Perhaps this little session of theirs could be interesting.

"Let`s face it Gustave." The other man, Anthony, sounded far more calm, far more firm as he spoke. "You have squandered the wealth you once had. There is no title to your name, and no inheritance in your fortune. Besides, a duchess reached out. I find it more fitting for Raoul to have a woman of wealth and of title."

"But what of love?" Gustave seemed as if he was pleading, "Surely the boy still loves Christine."

"That is besides the point." Anthony replied, "Raoul will marry whomever we choose for him. And we choose the Duchess Lorette of Yorkshire."

"But you don`t understand." Gustave continued his pleas, "My life is near its end, I have fallen ill and the doctors fear there is no recovering. All I have left is my Christine. All I want is for her to be taken care of once I`m gone."

"Ah, unfortunately, I fear that is none of my business. You are a good friend of mine Gustave. I hope you do not take this personally, but I can`t have my son squandering off such an opportunity. Good night." On that note the man turned away, leaving the study before softly closing the door behind him.

For a good while Gustave was still, watching the door before crying out in anger. He charged at his table, tossing the contents off of it in a fit of rage. He continued to break things, or at least attempt to break them, before his anger faded. With one emotion gone, a new one settled in to take its place. Gustave dropped on his chair, propping his elbows on the now clear desk and holding his head up. He sobbed to himself, mumbling about how his family was ruined.

Best not to waste such an opportunity, Erik mused.

"It is too late to save yourself." The masked man spoke loud enough for Gustave to hear, earning his attention as he moved away from where he was hiding. "But perhaps salvation awaits your daughter."

"Who are you?" the Swedish man asked, looking too tired to be scared or angry.

"A man with both wealth and title." Erik replied, managing to soften his usually dark tone as he came into Gustave`s view.

"What nonsense is this?" once again, bitter sadness replaced the anger Erik was expecting.

"I have an offer for you."


	2. A Dead Mans Wish

Still no clue what I`m doing XD

Please review.

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(A Year After the Phantoms 'Offer')

Christine sat there, unmoving and pale as she simply stared at the nothingness in front of her. Her once lavish home felt unbearably uncomfortable. Her once prized dress felt suffocating and tight. She could see, hear, and feel just as she always could, but something seemed to muddle her senses. As if she was simply existing through it all. At that moment life felt bleak and worthless, while feeling so fleeting and irreplaceable at the same time. Did that even make sense? Can you crave something that you simply seem to hate?

Oh god.

Why did this have to happen? She didn`t deserve this. Surely, she had been punished enough for sins she had yet to commit. People called her sweet, some even going as far as angelic. She was pure no doubt, her heart in the kindest of places. Yet even she doubted her innocence sometimes. She must have been a monster deep down. Why else would god punish her like this? Why else would he steal away her mother? Only to take her father from her a few years after?

Tests.

That`s what they had said. God tests his favourite creatures the most, the tests are supposed to make you stronger, make the reward so much sweeter. But what reward could there be for her? Anything she possibly wanted was ripped away from her. Her mother. Raoul. And now her father. There was no one left for her. Even her sweetheart had been taken away, off to London to court some duchess. He didn`t want too, of course he didn`t want to leave her. But much like her, he was helpless in the matter.

After only a second of silence, Christine broke off into sobs yet again. A person would be surprised by how many tears the lady had shed that morning. Her father had passed away last night, and since then she had been crying. Sleep was a lost cause, and she found herself up in bed, her eyes red and puffy as more tears made their way out. The worst part wasn`t the hurt, or the loss, or the emptiness she felt. But instead it was the helplessness. She hated it so much. She hated being so useless. If only there was something she could have done, only some way she could have helped. But it seemed in the great scheme of things she was simply a helpless pawn.

"Mademoiselle."

Christine forced her head out of her hands, blinking at the entering man through her tears. Somehow her mother`s words made their way through her head. Even in the darkest times, manners should not be lost to a lady. It is elegance that allows the strong to persevere through life. Keep your standards high. Always keep them high.

Biting back the urge to cry out, Christine wiped her tears away gently. She couldn`t smile, she couldn`t keep the frown off her face. So, looking rather grim, Christine straightened up her posture, sitting properly as the much older man walked to her side.

"May I sit?"

Christine nodded, and the man slowly seated himself on the couch, clearly straining as he worked his aged limbs.

"I am Charles Druvin. Surely you remember me from the ceremony?"

"Of course, Mister Druvin." Her mother would have been proud, hearing the politeness in her tone. Even in the midst of all her angst, the girl managed to act strong. Also, she was expecting this encounter. Druvin was her fathers lawyer, and so she was expecting a will of sorts. Despite that, she did dread the thought of reading it. She knew deep down her stomach wouldn`t be able to handle the pain of reading her fathers last wishes. She`d honestly prefer burying it away somewhere, only to bury herself as well. Perhaps alongside her father.

"Gustave was a good man." Druvin began with the formalities, pulling the expected letter out of his jacket. "He had his faults, just like we all do, but I find it fitting to say he did better than most. Managing to raise such a lovely lady on his own, now that is quite a stellar achievement. May god bless his soul." Christine nodded, not able to speak as she eyed the letter sadly. The man noticed that, and with a heavy sigh, handed it to her. "Your father handed me this letter two months prior to his death. Much like us all, he knew his time was coming to an end. He instructed me to give it to you only after he passed. He also asked me to plead with you. To plead that you follow his instructions exactly. I hope that is not the case though. I hope you can honour a noble mans last wishes."

She hoped so as well.

Nodding yet again, Christine gently opened the letter. She looked at it for a while, not really reading it, but simply appreciating the aesthetic of it. Her father had written this. That was his hand writing on the letter, his scent lingering to it. She could practically cry all over again. But no, she had to do this. She had to be strong. There will be time for grief. But not now, not yet.

 _My Dearest Christine,_

 _This past year has been challenging for you. My illness. Your heartbreak. Oh my dearest child, how I wish I could wash away all your pain, how I wish I could stop time altogether. If I could, I would return us to 1860. Do you remember? Mother decorating the table with her newest soufflé, Raoul and you playing softly by the fireplace as my fingers remained laced on my violin? I wish now that I had put the damned thing down more often. I wish I had spent more time with you and your mother. The people who matter the most._

 _In truth, I blame myself for your loneliness. Forgive me for not giving you all my time. My child, please forgive me. Not only for the past, but for what I am to ask of you now._

 _In my short life there was only one thing I longed for. Your security once I was gone. Raoul, though he loves you so, can no longer provide you with that. As your father, as your family, I found it my duty to find you a suitable means of safety. There is no substitute for love my darling. But love does not matter to me. Your well-being does._

 _There is a man Christine. A powerful man, one who will protect you my child. You must marry him. If you do that he will take care of you. He will be good to you I swear it._

 _Do not think I trust you to him so blindly. It took months of insisting before I accepted his offer, before then I considered it foolish. But as time dwindled I learned of him. I learned of his intentions and he is a good man Christine. I trust him now as I write this._

 _I know you can not love him, I don`t expect you to. But I ask that you trust him. I ask that you let me die with peace. Let me die knowing my child will be safe. Please my darling, I deserve nothing from you, but I plead for this._

 _He will be informed the day I die. He will be expecting you. His address is in the additional parchment within the envelope, give it to Travis and he will surely deliver you to him. My sweetest child, may the angels watch over you._

 _Your loving Papa_

Christine didn`t know what to think nor how to feel. She stared and stared at the paper for what felt like hours, but she knew it had only been seconds. Finally, it was Druvin who pulled her out of her trance, speaking her name gently as she looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

How could she answer that? How could she answer anything?

Her father had practically handed her off to someone, someone he expected her to trust. What was going through his head then? How could he expect her to lay her faith in a complete stranger? But no, it wasn't like that was it? Her father wasn`t asking her to trust a stranger. He was asking her to trust him. To trust in his final wishes, to trust in his judgement.

But when had trust gotten her anywhere?

Everyone she trusted only ended up leaving her.

This was unfair. If her father was alive she would practically smack him for suggesting such a thing. But he wasn`t alive, and at the moment she felt quite dead too. This was cruel was what it was. Guilting her into doing such a thing. Guilting her with his death, how could he? How could he do any of this!

Christine took a deep breath.

He wanted her to trust. Did she even have any trust left in her? Perhaps, perhaps only a sliver. It was a weak and fragile sliver, but there was the tiniest bit of trust in her. She could give it to this stranger, and for all she knows he could crush it within his very fists. Then she`d be nothing, completely broken. She was already starting to feel broken.

"As I mentioned." Druvin was speaking again, "Your father asked me to plead. I do not know for what, but I will do as he asks. Do I need too though? Do you find yourself conflicted my dear?"

"If you knew what he was asking…" Christine no longer sounded polite. The ache made its way into her voice, and her words came out broken and pained.

"My dear, you are young." Druvin inched closer, clasping his hands as he looked up at her with sad eyes. "I find that young people often forget that a parent only wants one thing, and that is the best for their child. If your father has requested something, I highly suggest you do it. A father only has his child`s best interest at heart. Do you doubt that?"

"I do not… but…" how could she possibly explain what she felt right now? Oh, she knew exactly the word. "But I`m scared. I`m so scared."

"I know." The man took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly in a reassuring manner. "Pretend. Pretend to be brave, pretend to be stronger than you are. If you do a good job, I swear you`ll eventually fool yourself into believing it."

OoOoOo

It was that night, after a haunting lunch that Christine found herself in her father`s carriage. She had stopped crying a while ago. Not because she didn`t want too, but because strong girls don`t cry. And she was going to do her best to act like one. At least until she couldn`t bare it anymore.

One question though, continued to haunt her. Why had her father asked her to do this? She would find out eventually. She would ask the stranger, whoever he was.

Speaking of who he was, her imagination was not kind. She had came up with the worst possible conclusions. What if he was some old man, what if he was 80 years old and crippled? What if her father promised her away only because the man was wealthy? Surely, he wouldn`t do that. But then again, she would have never expected him to marry her off without her say either. Oh, how she missed him.

"Almost there madam." The chauffer, Travis, said from where he was sitting, guiding the horses as he turned back to smile at her. He was just trying to be friendly, she knew that. It was cute in a way, how the staff tried their very hardest to lighten her mood. Unfortunately, the thought of it only made her feel worse.

She had already said her goodbyes to most of them, unable to hold back her tears when her cook of five years hugged her. They had asked lots of questions, questions she chose not to answer. They asked if she`d ever return. She said she couldn`t. Not because she didn`t want too, but because she knew with her father gone, the estate would follow suit. She had nothing left to inherit, and without a steady income there was no way for her to keep the estate running. Her father took everything with him. Everything but her.

If this stranger turned out to be the monster she feared, then she would be ruined. There would be nothing and no one to run to. She`d be left on the streets, and somehow that sounded a bit better then slaving away to some terrible man.

"Here we are." The chauffer came to a stop, and Christine hesitantly peaked out the carriage. The house, or should she say estate, was quite marvellous. It was far bigger then the one she lived in, almost as huge as the Chagny manor. It didn't look as inviting though, dark stoned walls replacing the gold and white fence the Chagnys adorned. It looked quite depressing in a way, dark towers and dreary looking windows. It looked like something out of those horror novels her mother used to read, creepy castles with creepy monsters inside.

"Need help with your bags?" the chauffer asked as he opened the carriage door, offering her his hand as he helped her out. She took it and nodded a yes as he reached for her rather large pieces of luggage. It took a little bit of effort, but the boy managed to drag them through the long path that led up to the grand porch. He waited as Christine followed, allowing the lady to ring the doorbell.

Both the boy and Christine jumped at the haunting tune that played. No ordinary man had a doorbell quite like this.

The two waited in silence for a moment, both of them tensing as they heard the clicking of locks coming undone. One last time Christine contemplated the monster that would face her. She could imagine a tall, bony man, with hollowed cheeks and ghoulish eyes. He`d have wispy white hair and yellow teeth. His fingernails would be overgrown and he`d dress in only dark clothing as he squawked and sneered.

One last time Christine turned, wondering how far she could get if she ran. But where would she go? Who would she go to? Perhaps the streets would beat living as a bride to some twisted Frankenstein.

Just as she was about to act on the thought the door opened, and Christine`s attention was instantly brought to the terror she expected to see in the doorway. Oh god. It was all true. He was old and chubby, graying beard hanging from his tired face. He must have been 60 years old, and she only 18. Surely, he couldn`t expect her to marry him? Oh god, oh god.

"Madam Daae?" he asked rather politely.

The girl didn`t answer, unsure what to do or say.

"Master Erik has been expecting you."

Master Erik? Ah, so this wasn`t the master of the house. A footman instead perhaps? What a relief.

"Ye-yes." Christine stuttered before remembering what her mother had said. "I am Christine Daae, it is a pleasure to meet you Mister…?"

"Carlyle. I am the butler here at my lord`s estate. Head of staff." He replied, sounding even more professional by the minute.

"A pleasure Mister Carlyle." Christine managed to sound respectful.

The butler looked at her carefully for a second before turning to the chauffer.

"Fetch those bags Henri." The butler ordered sternly as a ginger haired footman rushed in to take the bags off the chauffer before quickly slipping back inside. On that note the butler pulled the door open wider, gesturing for Christine to enter. The girl didn`t, well not immediately at least. She lingered for at least a minute, watching as the chauffer said goodbye before leaving. Her last connection with the life she once knew was now gone. The only proof of it ever existing were the memories in her head and the items in her luggage. She hoped they would be enough.

The concern that still faced her was this so-called Master Erik. She still didn`t know anything about him, and just because his staff seemed mannered, didn`t mean he would be.

Remember what Druvin said. Be brave, even if you must pretend.

With one sharp intake of breath, Christine walked through the doors.


	3. Into the Dungeon

It was daunting, following the older man as he led her through the rather dreary hallways. They were painted a dark crimson, decorated only with protruding brass candles. They needed paintings, a few sculptures here and there and maybe just maybe it would look a little more inviting. Not that she really cared. The hallway went on a little before opening up into a grand luxurious room. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling yet somehow everything seemed so dark. A grand staircase was visible in the background, as well as two other halls that led into each direction.

"Right this way Miss, he is no doubt in his study." Carlyle began to lead her towards the hallway in the back, the one that led to the left before glancing at that footman from earlier. Henri looked rather lost as he blinked around. "Good lord Henri, put her luggage in the guest room."

"Which one?" the nervous boy asked.

"Which one? Which one?!" the butler seemed frustrated, but it was a good type of frustrated. He seemed strict, but well-intentioned. "The one the maids have been preparing since noon, perhaps?"

The boy blushed at his foolishness before disappearing up the stairs.

So the maid had been preparing for her?

"Forgive his daftness mademoiselle, he is new." The butler sighed before leading her down the hall, occasionally checking back to see if she was still there.

The sound hit her even before she entered the room. The sound of a mighty piano being played. Notes practically danced through the hallway, and for a moment Christine felt as if she had been transported back in time. A silly, childish part of her expected to see her father there, dancing away as he harped notes on his violin. But then reality hit, and Christine remembered he was dead. Besides, her father preferred happier sounds, not this dark, intimidating tune. It didn`t sound bad. Not at all really, it was intense, and emotional, quite beautiful really. But it was sad. The sound was simply sad.

Christine felt like crying yet again, the only thing preventing her tears was the startling stop the butler came to. He gestured at her to enter, but made no attempt to do so himself. It seemed she would have to face this Master Erik on her own. Mumbling a weak but polite thank you, Christine riled up all the courage she had and entered the study.

She noticed the bookshelves first, they were tall and majestic as they seemed to line every inch of the room. It seemed the master of the house was quite fond of reading. The next thing she noticed was the carpet, it, much like everything else, was black with only a bit of white and red embroidery. Another thing she couldn`t help but realize was the amount of light in the room, even a place of reading was kept so dark. There were candles almost everywhere, but somehow the light they presented wasn`t enough. Most of the lights were collected at one end of the room though, and it was there that she noticed the final piece of the room. The piano, and oh how grand it was. The black, elegant instrument was the largest she had ever seen, the sheer shine of it`s exterior screamed quality.

It was that sight which finally brought her to the man who played it. His notes had come to a stop, his fingers simply hovering over the keys as he sat there unmoving. He knew she was here, and desperately Christine waited for him to turn around.

She was anxious now, after so much waiting, after so much on her shoulders, she just needed to see him. So far the only part of him she could see was his back, and by the looks of it the favouring of the colour black went beyond the house and onto his wardrobe. He stood up slowly, and Christine managed to make out the black leather gloves that matched the dark cloak he wore. She watched as he finally turned around, shadows dancing over his face as he walked forward.

Finally he came to a stop in front of her. Finally she could see him for what he was.

It was confusing, his appearance that is. On the one side he looked rather decent, tall and muscular as he stood there with his broad shoulders and a flattened stomach. The features of his face were quite dark but no doubt alluring. His eyes sparkled a certain gray-green, his hair dark and slicked as a few strands lay over his forehead. He looked quite handsome, and there was a certain vampiric nature to his attire that both allured and put-off Christine. But then came in the weird part. The part she wasn`t sure what to make of.

While one side of his face looked beyond angelic, the other seemed to be no more than a mystery. He had a mask on. One as white as snow hooked to the side of his face, dark impressions emphasizing where his cheek bones would have been. It was odd to say the least, but in honesty, Christine wasn`t sure what to make of it.

But she wouldn`t judge. All she`d been doing since she arrived was judge and judge a man she had yet to meet. She just wanted to make sure he wasn`t something awful, and by the looks of it he wasn`t. She would be kind now, she would give him a chance. He deserved that.

"Good Evening Miss Daae." His voice was rather soothing, deep and dark while remaining somehow soft.

"Good Evening." Stay polite Christine, a proper lady would.

"I was concerned, I expected you to arrive sooner. Did the letter delay?" he sounded rather charming, but it seemed as if he was truly forcing the charm. He was putting a lot effort into trying to impress her, and in honesty, Christine could appreciate that. At least he wanted to please her.

"I`m afraid it was not the letter that delayed, but my decision." She chose to be quite honest.

"Ah, but it has been made now?" he raised the one eyebrows she could see, something threatening made it`s way into his tone. "You have decided to marry me?"

Oh. That.

"I have decided to meet you, Mister…" shoot, what was his last name?

"Erik. Simply call me Erik." He smiled, at least he attempted too, it came across a little more grimly then Christine would have liked to note. It seemed her earlier comment upset him. But what did he expect? That she would willingly fall into an arranged marriage. Now even she was not that submissive. "May I call you Christine?"

"You may." What did she have to lose? "Mister… I mean Erik, I have questions. Why did my father make this decision? What was your relationship with him? I`ve never heard of you before, should I have?" And that mask. What was behind that mask?

"In good time. You must be tired." He took her hand in his gloved one, and surprisingly Christine didn`t mind the touch. He didn`t really do anything, instead he held it for a while in a rather reassuring manner. What she couldn`t tell though was if he was trying to reassure her or himself. "Carlyle will show you to your living quarters. For now at least. Dinner will be served shortly, I`ll send a lady's maid to see if you would like to change before dinner. I hope to see you shortly." He began to leave before coming to an abrupt pause, "I wish for you to treat the house like your own, but I ask that you do not snoop around tonight. There is much cleaning to do, and I`d appreciate if you let me prepare everything before exposing them to your curiosity."

"Of course…"

He left and the butler appeared immediately after. Christine figured he had not left the hallway.

oOoOoOo

The lady`s maid, Anna, seemed like a sweet girl. She was a tad bit clumsy, taking a lot longer than expected to sort through the corsets and gowns. Christine figured the girl hadn`t been exposed to much work prior to her arrival. Other than the staff, there didn`t seem to be anyone but that man living her. Oh and what a man he was. He was no Raoul, but he wasn`t absolutely horrible either. He did seem a little odd though with his dark décor and intense piano-playing, not to mention the mysterious mask adorning his face.

She would be on edge, but not unkind. That she was certain of.

With a finalizing sigh, Christine stood up, blinking at her reflection. The mirror was tall and grand, capturing every bit of her maroon clad body. The dress she had worn was one she had brought with her. Apparently, the masked man had an entire wardrobe prepared for her, but the girl wasn`t quite ready to throw her own belongings aside. Besides, it was slightly uncomforting, to think he had picked all these dresses for her, perfectly to size. Then again, her father could have simply told him what size she was. It seemed her father did plenty of things without her knowing.

"Oh papa…" Christine bit back a sob, not wanting to mess up her appearance at the moment.

Bravely, she jutted out her chin, pretending to be confident as Anna held the door for her. In her old estate, the main staircase would be right across her room. When she realized this was not the case in the new house, she felt like crying yet again.

"Beautiful." The man had said those words as soon as she entered the rather ominous looking dining room. The table stretched quite far but it seemed there were only two seats. One at the front where he sat, and the other directly at his left hand side. Trying her best to keep mannerism in mind, Christine gracefully took her seat beside him. Almost instantly the door to the dining room opened as two footmen entered, trays of food in hand as they waited on her. Politely, Christine took a little bit of whatever they offered, noticing how the man beside her shook his head at most of the dishes.

Once they left, the room felt eerily quiet.

"Is your room adequate?" his voice held that dark, lingering feeling to it.

"Yes…" Christine managed to answer.

He opened his mouth to say more before suddenly closing it. Awkwardly he turned to his food, taking a few spoonful's as his eyes darted from side to side. Once again he opened his mouth but found nothing to say. It seemed he didn`t know what to talk about, and in all honesty Christine would have loved nothing more then to dine in silence. But that wasn`t the lady-like thing to do, now was it?

"You play piano. Do you enjoy music?" she asked politely, managing a sweet smile.

He grinned at her before answering; "Without music I would be nothing. I am a composer, many of my scores have been well-received and played all across Europe."

Well that explained his wealth, Christine thought.

"My work usually explores the darker side of humanity." He continued, and politely, the girl listened. "The injustices of God, the tragedies of life. It is conflicting. It is emotional. But there is beauty. The night appears dark and forbidding, but there is true beauty in it. And so, it seems I compose the music of the night."

Well that was one way of looking at it.

"I`ve never heard of you."

The look on the mans face was what made Christine realize how offensive she had just sounded. He looked like a kicked puppy, doe-eyed and speechless as he quickly cleared his throat, forcing his attention on his plate.

"I did not mean it like that." She tried to apologize, "Perhaps you`ll take me to one of your shows sometime?"

He didn`t really reply as he brooded at his dinner.

"If I may ask mis- Erik." The girl decided a change of subject was in order. "Why do you wear that mask?"

It was even more surprising now, a man dressed so formally for dinner still wore something as silly as a mask. His clothes -thought they remained almost completely black minus the white tie- were different from the ones he wore earlier. They were far more fancier in truth, a regal black evening suit followed by a pristine looking pair of pants.

"Some things are better left unknown." He answered, his voice dropping to a dangerous octave. Apparently, any hint of good mood from earlier was gone, now replaced completely with a grim frown.

"I apologize. I didn`t mean to overstep." She managed to make up for the kindness he was lacking at the moment. "You know… you still have not answered my questions from earlier. My father. What was his relationship with you?"

The man studied her for a good while, fingers dancing along the edge of his wine glass as he seemed to contemplate his answer. Christine waited rather patiently, trying to find the middle ground between being lady-like and getting what she so desperately deserved. Answers.

"Our relationship was business in the beginning." He answered smoothly, "We became good acquaintances afterwards. If fate had been kind and he was given more time, we would have been good friends by the end of the year."

"What business brought you to him?"

He went silent, his fingers growing a little more aggressive against his glass.

"My dear." He began, a little softer now. "You must be familiar with the concept of arranged marriages. They`re for the benefit of both parties I assure you. Many young women are married off to suitors they`re parents see best for them. Which is why I insist that you go along with your fathers wishes, I can arrange it at the church before sunrise."

"That is very kind of you… but I don`t love you." Christine replied, trying not to raise her voice. She thought he`d be reasonable. She had just met him, why was he so persistent? Why did he want her so badly? Was he lonely, did he want a young, pretty thing to bury his troubles in. Good lord, she had heard these talks from the maids now and then. The things that would happen between a man and a woman, the temptation that was lust. Why else would he want her? It was sickening to think about. "I don`t even know you!"

"Marry me first. Get to me know afterwards." He stood up now, moving almost instantaneously to the girl`s side. By the time she had stood up for her own defense he had a hand around her wrist, the other one lingering against her side. "My dearest angel…" he looked at her so intensely as if his gaze alone could move earth and sky. Slowly, sensually, his fingers moved up her waist; barely touching, almost ghost-like. She should have said something, but she was too lost in the gray-green storm that raged in his eyes. It was hypnotizing, the way he spoke, the way he acted. His entire being had her completely lost for words. "Touch me…" he whispered, "Trust me."

Unable to deny him, she found her hand moving up on it`s own accord, coming so innocently to the side of his unmasked face. He felt as real as any man would, soft skin against the tips of her finger. He practically closed his eyes, leaning into the touch as he sighed a breath of relief. The way he acted, how passionate he seemed, it was as if this wasn`t their first meeting at all. It was as if he truly loved her. But how could he? He didn`t even know her!

A sharp smack rang across the dining room, followed by complete silence.

Moments ticked by before Erik reacted, releasing the girl in every form of the word before backing up. His eyes had a hard glitter to them as he adjusted his sleeves before coming up to slick back his hair. A part of Christine expected him to lash out at her. How dare she hit him in her own house? Not just hit him, but slap him directly in the face. It was insulting, and the girl could practically imagine her mother`s lectures on etiquette.

"Forgive my ignorance." He muttered insincerely, "Your father has all but passed recently and here I am rushing you to make decisions you don`t quite understand. You _will_ learn to love me. But such feelings take time to blossom, and so I shall be patient with you. But do remember, without me you have nothing, no one to fall to. Love will eventually come, but must you put off an inevitable wedding simply to wait for it?"

Christine said nothing, and he quickly turned away, looking pathetic and depressed as he moved away.

"Good night." he growled the words out, exiting the dining room with a sharp close of the door.

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As a friend of mine once put it.

I am a beggar, and reviews are the coins in my hat :P


	4. A Midnight Venture

_Raoul,_

 _It has been a while since you`ve heard from me, yet something has happened and I need a friend more than ever before. You had written to me the first few months after you left, and unforgivingly I ignored you. I am sorry, but I was heartbroken then. Now, it seems unfair for me to go to you for help after I so cruelly ignored you. But Raoul, I am scared and I am desperate for a familiar face._

 _My father has died. The estate is gone._

 _He had left me a letter, requesting I marry some man he apparently knew. Now I have come to live with him. Live with the stranger. Oh my God. He wants me to marry him, that was the deal apparently, my father sent me to marry him. He says he will protect me and he does seem to be wealthy and his manners are… acceptable. But that isn`t the point. He looks fine, other than the peculiar mask, and he acts fine. But, I do not love him, for I do not know him._

 _I am not ready to start a new life. All I want is a piece of my old one back._

 _I do not know what I`m asking of you. But I think I need comforting, I think I need a friends consoling. Raoul, I`m frightened. What should I do?_

 _Little Lottie_

Christine gently folded the letter, slipping it into an envelope before sealing it delicately. It was around 5a.m. when the girl stepped out of her room. Her lady`s maid had yet to come and help her prepare for the day, not that she really needed help. It seemed this house was far more formal than the one she lived in prior. She didn`t even have a lady`s maid back then.

Still a little groggy, Christine began to make her way down the grand staircase, remembering where it was from dinner earlier. By the looks of it no one was awake, and personally the girl found it quite comforting. After a little walking, she found herself facing a small bin by the manor`s front door, within it was only one letter. Curiously she picked it up, noting the interesting skull shaped seal before dropping it back along with her own letter. The servants would deliver these to the post office once they were awake.

With that done, Christine began to turn, but not without her eyes lingering on the door. She could run now, slip away into the night without a word. But what good would that do? Running wouldn`t help her escape her problems. Besides, maybe she was overreacting. True her host was a little touchy and a little eager, but he wasn`t unkind.

Quietly, the girl began to walk back to her room, deciding to maybe snooze a little longer. At least until the servants come to wake her for breakfast. That plan however was cut short as she heard the soft but notable notes of a piano in the air.

Was someone in the study at this hour?

Naïve and curious, the girl found herself yet again walking down the hallways in the back, making her way to the study. And there he was, draped in his black cloak as his fingers danced on the keys. Deciding it best no to disturb, Christine turned to leave, coming to a stop when the music ceased.

"You`ve awoken."

How did he notice? She hadn`t even made a sound.

"I was just thirsty." She answered, deciding she didn`t want to go over the details of her letter.

"Ask Anna to leave a jug in your room next time. It will save you the trouble of getting out of bed." He mused, before properly turning to look at her. His mask was still on. Does he ever take it off? "Do you sing my dear?"

"Sometimes." Christine replied, deciding she might as well move closer if they were going to have a conversation. It wasn`t lady like to be yelling from across the room. "Usually when I am bored." The girl came to a stop a little bit away from his piano, putting a respectable amount of distance between them. She decided it was not enough when he raked his eyes over her, appreciating the way her nightgown hung to her lithe frame. A little embarrassed, Christine decided to take a few more steps back just for good measure.

"Sing something for me." He didn`t ask it. He ordered it.

Rather then argue, Christine found herself a little amused by the idea. He was a composer after all, perhaps he could give her a few tips. Quietly, the girl thought about her options before remembering an old song her father had written when her mother had passed away. She had memorized it, so had he, the sad lyrics reminding her of the ache that came with losing someone. Now she found herself singing it, her father in mind.

' _Sometimes it seemed, if I just dreamed._

 _Some how you would be here._

 _Wishing I could hear your voice again._

 _Knowing that I never would._

 _Dreaming of you won`t help me to do_

 _All that you dreamed I could.'_

He began to play a few notes, and Christine came to a pause.

"Keep singing my angel." He whispered the command and the girl found herself obeying. This time as she continued the song, he played along to it. The girl had heard it on her father`s violin before, but the notes Erik produced with his piano were otherworldly. She used to think her father was the best musician in the world, but this sound alone would suggest she was wrong.

' _Wishing you were somehow here again._

 _Knowing we must say goodbye._

 _Try to forgive. Teach me to live._

 _Give me the strength to try…_ Oh God Papa!" Christine broke off into a sob, practically crumpling to the ground as she wept violently.

The masked man was clearly taken by surprise as he watched his little angel cry her heart out. For a good second he was frozen, unsure how to react before finally reaching down and pulling her up into his arms. She held him, simply because she needed the reassurance at that moment. Erik didn`t dare to move as she buried her head in his chest, crying and crying until no more tears would come.

oOoOoOo

"How do I get myself into these situations." Erik whispered to himself as he picked up the now asleep Miss Daae. His strong arms found no issue with carrying her body out of his study and up the stairs. In truth he enjoyed the feeling of being so close. Perhaps that`s why he found himself lingering in front of her bed. Even though he had already placed her there comfortably with her covers pulled up, he still didn`t leave.

How could he, anyways?

She just looked so inviting. He could practically imagine how warm it would feel to curl up beside her. When was the last time he felt the warmth of another person? Ah, that`s right. Never.

Just a touch wouldn`t hurt, would it? He would simply lay beside her for a few seconds, sink into the soft mattress and warm himself against her. Only a few seconds, then he would leave. Besides, eventually, once she agreed to marry him, they`d be laying like this quite often. No harm in getting a feel for it now.

Ever so carefully, Erik sat down on the mattress, feeling the material sink in. With another quick glance at his sleeping angel, he pulled one leg up, then the other before allowing his head to fall back on the pillow. She was only a few inches away from him, laying on her side with her arms curled up in front of her. Gently, Erik allowed himself to turn his face towards her. His mask pressed up against his face rather uncomfortably, but he didn`t dare remove it in fear of her waking to find his horrible visage merely inches away. She would definitely never marry him if he scarred her like that.

A little more depressed now, Erik turned to face the bed's canopy. It was all a trick really, even if he got her to marry him, he`d be tricking her. He would fool her into thinking he was something he wasn`t. Fool her into thinking he was a handsome and mysterious composer. One peer behind the mask and she`d fear him for the monster he truly was. Women were all the same. All of them craved that handsome, charming prince with the stunning golden locks and a kingdom at their disposal. He could spend his whole life trying, but he could never be that prince.

Ironically, he still tried. It was pathetic how much effort he put into looking attractive, all for her sake. Always a white tie, a black one would never be formal enough. Slicked back hair to show a little class, and tight suits to show off a little sex appeal. But why bother? It`s not like anything could make up for the lack of skin on his tattered face. Grumbling something quite depressing, Erik began to stand up, only coming to a stop when her fingers somehow made their way into his cloak. He glanced ever so slightly to see her fast asleep with her fist clenching around the material of his cloak.

How terribly cliché.

Quietly, the masked man took her smaller hand into his gloved ones, gently placing it back on the mattress. Soon he would have her all to himself, intimate and exposed. But not yet. Not now.

oOoOoOo

Erik wasn`t sure what to expect as Christine walked into the dining room, freshly dressed in a turquoise dress her lady`s maid no doubt had helped her into. It would be lying if the man said he was alright with her attire, after all he would have preferred to see her in one of the many gowns he had picked for her. Deciding not to turn that into an argument, the man put his newspaper down, standing up politely as the woman entered. She seemed a little taken back by the respect, and Erik couldn`t help but bask in the appreciation.

Slowly she came to her seat, an arm`s length away on his left-side. She looked tired, but what did he expect? After all, she had only fallen asleep a few hours ago. Why was she up so late anyways? He hadn`t done something to make her feel that uncomfortable, had he?

Deciding not to dwell on it, Erik turned to see the footmen enter, once again with trays in hand. Their service was a little quicker, and Erik gladly took his usual breakfast. Jam and toast. Always… jam and toast.

"No milk?" Christine asked, and the man looked up to see she was quite right. His footmen weren`t allowed to serve milk. Or any dairy product for that matter.

"Dairy clogs the vocal chords." He replied, "My cook isn`t allowed to serve it."

"Ah." She mumbled rather groggily, settling into her omelet. "I didn`t know your composing required you to sing."

"It doesn`t." he answered rather ominously.

They ate in silence for a few moments. Moments that Erik absolutely hated. He wished they could converse the way he would see couples do. Talk of anything and everything simply for the sake of each others enjoyment. Why couldn`t this be like that? If he could, he would gladly lead all the conversations, but Erik wasn`t exactly a professional at being social. In fact, he spent most of his early-life locked away with only horrible interactions if any.

With the past in his mind, Erik couldn`t help but brood at his breakfast.

"Is something the matter?"

The man looked up to see true concern in her eyes. When was the last time somebody looked at him like that? Oh, well actually his butler did that quite a lot. But Carlyle was family, a friend on the inside. She, on the other hand, was almost an outsider, someone who didn`t owe him anything. Even though it was a small act, it was nice to see someone being so kind so sparingly.

"Nothing." He answered, deciding it best not to bore her with his trivial past. Suddenly, he remembered something from last night, something that would make a great topic of conversation. "Would you like to go out tonight?"

"Oh… I don`t know." She replied, looking extremely timid as she continued to eat. "My father died only a few days ago. I don`t think I`m ready for any… celebrating."

"Nothing too grand I assure you." The man couldn`t help but let a little eagerness slip into his voice, "You asked if I could take you to see one of my operas. One of my newer ones is being put on at a local opera house. I intended to see the production anyways, it would be an honor if you`d accompany me."

Christine looked up at him, their eyes meeting yet again as she read him like a book. Erik knew right then she could see right through him, she could see how desperate he was for some sort of social interaction. She was pitying him, he thought. What else could that look mean? What else could that sadness in her eyes mean? He wasn`t sure what was worse, being told no, or being told yes out of pity. He wasn't some wounded puppy for her to nurse back to health simply out of the goodness of her heart. No. He had worked too hard to become the powerful man he was now, and he wanted her to see him as that.

"Alright." She answered, "I`ll go with you."

All thoughts of being powerful or pitiful evaporated from Erik`s mind. Well, as long as she`s going with him, who cares why?

He could show her how powerful he was later. For now, he had a trip to prepare for. It would have to be quite impressive, he`d have to dress his very best, get his finest horses ready, and his newest carriage polished. He`d have to send one of the footmen to tell the opera house to prepare their finest boxes and their grandest productions. Tonight, he would do his very best to impress his little angel, to make himself seem like the finest man available. Then, how could she deny him her hand in marriage?

"But there is a condition." As soon as she said those words, Erik`s happiness ceased. A condition could never be a good thing.

"And what would that be?" he sounded a little grimmer than he intended.

"You answer one of my questions." She replied as innocently as ever, peeking up at him from her breakfast, "Why did you ask my father for me? Out of all the women in Paris, why me?"

Oh, simple. I had heard you sing one day while passing by your house, after that I`ve been stalking you like a twisted animal would. Heck, I`ve even been in your room a couple of times watching you sleep.

Good God, he was making it all sound far darker than it was. True he did some questionable things he wasn`t proud of, but being the type of man he was, secrecy was the only way for him to get close to the angel he so passionately loved.

"I heard you sing." He decided to be as honest as he could without scaring her away. "I instantly fell in love with your voice Christine. I knew right then and there that I needed you in my life to serve me, to sing."

She looked a little confused at first, and Erik didn`t blame her. At the very least he hoped she wouldn`t pester him for details.

"I suppose..." Christine stood up now, "I should go pick out a dress for tonight so that Anna can prepare it."

Was it wrong that Erik couldn`t keep the grin off his face as she left?

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Thank you everyone for your interest and feedback :3

I`ll do my best to post frequently (At the moment it`s daily, but it will eventually become weekly)

Please review.


	5. An Opera and a Revelation

Christine felt a strange mix of nervousness and relief when she found the study empty for once. Usually Erik would always be in here, composing new scores or simply humouring himself with his piano. For once, she had the entire room to herself. With one peek behind herself, Christine walked over to the closest shelf, allowing her finger to gently trace along the books as she walked. She had been meaning to get a few books, her mother used to be so fond of reading. The fondness had inevitability affected Christine as well. You know what they say. Like mother, like daughter.

The masked man would be up in his room right now. Where that was, she wasn`t sure, but where else could he be? They would be attending an opera after all, and she had presumed he would be getting ready. As a matter fact, so should she, if it wasn`t for Anna accidently spilling water on the dress. The said maid had apologized a billion times before Christine convinced her that it truly was alright. Now, she was ironing the new dress, and Christine presumed it would take about half-an-hour. The iron did take quite a while to heat up after all.

So, the girl found herself in the library, searching for something fantastic to bury her nose in for a while. Nothing romantic though, she doubted she could read something like that in her current situation. As a matter of fact, she would have preferred a daring adventure, one with the rare female heroine would be nice. Her mother used to love books like that, and though it took ages of searching, she had managed to accumulate a collection of female-lead stories. Christine wondered if Erik had any of those.

After a moment of skimming the shelves, the girl picked out a book that seemed to have a woman on the cover. She dropped it almost immediately, blushing a deep, bright crimson before quickly putting it back where she had gotten it. Good lord, she had no idea the man read _those_ types of books. She was about to storm away to a different shelf when curiosity got the better of her and she found herself plucking the book out again. It took a few tries before she managed to look at the cover, her innocence still present as curiosity took the better of her.

The cover had an extremely pleased looking nude woman sitting on a stool. The title read; _How to Please Any Woman_. Christine didn`t dare open it, subconsciously wondering why in the world the man would own a book like this. She herself was no professional when it came to those things, but she would prefer to learn it the old-fashioned way rather than research it. Besides, he was a man. Men usually had at least a few conquests before marriage. And considering his wealth and power, she would assume he had slept with a fair amount of women before her. Shouldn`t he already know how all this stuff works?

Perhaps he keeps it for his own amusement? How despicable!

After a good moment of debating whether she needed to bathe in holy water or not, Christine placed the book back. With that done, the girl ventured to the next shelf. She spent the next few minutes searching for a book, being very careful that it wasn`t another one of those erotic _references._

"Miss!"

Christine`s attention was brought to the doorway as a panting Anna entered.

"Come now miss, your dress is ready. Master`s getting awfully impatient." Anna spoke quickly, not even waiting for a response as she turned and ran back upstairs.

Sighing before smiling, Christine stood up from where she was crouching at the shelves. Her eyes lingered for a while, remembering the spot she had plucked _that_ book from. Something unknown began to stir in the girl`s mind, a mix of curiosity and rebellion. She remembered some of the maids would giggle about it back in her old estate – the happenings between a man and a woman. She knew it was quite the hot topic, as if it was something really fantastic. Something really to look forward to. Hilariously, she wasn`t even sure what that something was. All she did know was their bodies would have to be close, that their skin would even… touch.

The girl shuddered at the thought.

"Miss!" Anna`s head popped in the doorway again, "Master`s about to throw a fit if we don`t get you dressed quick."

"Right, sorry." Christine managed to say, feeling a little bad at the thought of the maid getting in trouble because of her. Quickly putting those thoughts from her mind, the girl exited the library.

oOoOoOo

Erik was a horrible mix of impatient, frustrated, and anxious as his angel came down the porch stairs, dressed at last. Not saying a word, he held the carriages door open for her, noticing how she blushed sharply when their eyes made contact. Quickly she ducked into the carriage, and obviously the man followed suit, the seat heaving under his weight. Was it just him, or was she scooting away? Just in case she was, the man decided to scoot a little closer for good measure.

"Should I be concerned?" he asked rather vaguely as she smirked a knowing smirk.

"Let`s just say I got a good look at your library." She replied, blushing yet again before turning her attention out to the window. God knows what that means, women could be so complicated sometimes. Deciding not to fuss over it, Erik took a moment to appreciate the dress she was wearing. It wasn`t one of his like he had hoped, but instead a frilly, light pink gown. He personally preferred his angel in darker, more fiercer colours to give a little contrast, but he couldn`t lie, this gown brought out all her feminine features. For example her long eyelashes seemed even darker in comparison to the light colour, her skin looking even more creamy. Not to mention it hugged her waist rather well, also capturing her perfect breasts…

Damn it.

Now was not the time to get all lustful for his young Miss Daae. They weren`t even married yet, and he doubted she`d welcome his advances in a carriage of all places.

oOoOoOo

Christine felt out of place as she sat in one of the top boxes at the opera house. Never before had she been in a theatre so grand, gold statues and polished chandeliers. Her father had told her he preformed in one once, even then her mother had to sit in the back, they couldn`t afford anything too luxurious back then. Yet here she was, sitting in no doubt the most lavish box with the most perfect view of the stage.

The girl noticed as Erik finally entered, handling her a pamphlet before taking his own seat beside her. They had the entire box to themselves, and for a moment she wondered if it was the luxury or the privacy that pushed him to buy such seats. Probably both.

Deciding not to worry too much about the stranger beside her and instead focus on the show, the girl flipped through her pamphlet. The little book gave a brief synopsis of the opera`s nature before talking a bit about the history of the opera house. It wasn`t anything particularly interesting but the girl busied herself with it until finally the lights dimmed, signalling the beginning.

All eyes turned to the curtains as they were swept aside, the gesture grand and extravagant. A woman was kneeling on the stage, her eyes teary and her dress white as snow. Her hair was dark and curly and she seemed to have a hint of Italian in her. For a good few minutes the girl wept, the dancers working around her as the stage transformed into an image of a tiny house, one the girl presumably lived in. The door to said house suddenly slammed open, the incarnate of a shining white knight stepping into the room. He looked like an absolute dream, sword in hand and blonde locks framing a heavenly face. Christine suspected the girl to jump up in delight at the knight`s arrival but instead it seemed her crying worsened, her head burying itself in her hands as she opened her mouth to sing the first notes.

oOoOoOo

"Christine?"

The girl was broken from her trance as Erik shook her gently. Her eyes were teary as she looked up at him, still lost in what she had just seen.

"Did you not like it?" he asked, his gloved hand reaching up to wipe a tear from her face. "It wasn`t my finest work, but was it really so horrid?"

"Erik…" Christine`s voice cracked immediately and she took a few moments to recollect herself. "Why? Why did it end like that? Why did you let him die?"

The opera was a complete blur of emotions. It had taken Christine from confusion to amusement to bliss to downright tears in a matter of minutes. Her heart was still throbbing from what she had witnessed, the most haunting part was the ending. The story focused on a girl with two lovers, one a dashing knight with all the wealth in the world but no heart. The other one had a heart though, but a failing one. He was ill in someway, meant to die any day. The girl was in love with the second one, and she so desperately wanted to marry him. But he denied her, he loved her too, he truly did, but he didn`t want to tie her with a dying man. So, she was forced to live with the knight, but he was careless and inconsiderate. He didn`t know love, only lust. Finally, the girl had escaped to find her true love, but when they met she was too late. They shared one final night together before he passed away, succumbing to his illness.

In all her year`s alive, Christine had never seen an opera like that. Usually they would be pointless comedies, satirical romances, and the occasional sexist dramas. This though was raw and emotional, and the music. Oh, good lord that music was probably what sold it, that had her living in the moment, had her feeling all the pain and ache they felt.

"Why`d you have to kill him? Why can`t they have a happy ending?" she honestly sounded angry.

"Why can`t I have a happy ending." he mirrored her question, a hint of amusement lacing his dark voice.

"Are all your opera`s like this?" the girl asked as he offered her his hand, helping her out of the seat as they began to make their exit.

"What, realistic?"

"Sad. Are they all sad?" she rephrased.

" _A Broken Heart_ is one of my more comical ones." he replied, "Though the protagonist does end up alone and depressed."

"Well." Christine folded her arms in mock rebellion as they came to the opera house`s exit, couples moving past them. "I`d like to make a request."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?"

"Write a happier opera. One with a happy ending."

"I`ll tell you what." Erik smirked as he continued to lead her to the arriving carriage. "The day I get my happy ending, I will personally write you a sickly, sweet romance. One where no-one dies and the girl ends up with the villain."

"Villain?" Christine raised an eyebrow.

"The knight in that story was the hero." He replied, "He had done nothing wrong. He married a girl he liked, served a country her loved and boasted only of his truest accomplishments. The other man however only plagued the girls heart, he ruined her marriage. Tell me, who seems like the villain to you?"

He had a point.

The ill man was in no way a villain, but the knight hadn`t really done anything wrong either. He was honest, though he did not love her, he tried to be kind, tried to be caring. The knight wasn`t the villain, but that doesn`t mean the other man was either. But then who was to blame? There had to be a villain somewhere, how else would the plot have flown as it did? Was it the girl? No, it couldn`t be her. She only followed her heart… breaking all hearts in the process. But could she really be blamed for running away from the knight? Could she be blamed for going against the ill man`s wishes? Good lord, were all of Erik`s operas so complicated?

"I don`t know." Christine finally sighed and the man smiled slyly.

"Isn`t it interesting." He mused as their carriage came to a stop by the side of the walkway, "How quick the human mind is to declare a villain."

"Are you always this philosophical?" Christine asked softly as the man held the carriages door open for her.

"Only for you my dear."

Deciding not to press him, the girl entered the carriage, making room for him.

"So, tell me." He began as the carriage started moving, "Did you enjoy yourself? Or did the ending ruin everything."

"I rarely go out, so this was quite… fun." Christine genuinely smiled. It felt nice in a way, to distract herself from the misery of real life if only for a few hours. "The music though was quite incredible. Your very talented Erik."

"Yet I feel those talents are wasted on such mediocre performers." He muttered, gloved hand coming up to gently trace Christine`s cheek. Surprisingly the girl didn`t move away. She had no idea why.

"I thought those performers sung wonderfully."

"They pale in comparison to your voice." The hand now moved to the back of her head, fingers entwining with strands of her dark curls. "I have so much music in my head, but I fear without you they have no voice."

"You`re quite the romantic mousier." Christine murmured as he toyed with her hair.

"I`m serious Christine." He moved closer until there was no distance between them, their shoulders touching as he leaned into her. "I want you to star in my operas. I want you to give my work a voice."

"Only the ones with happy endings though. That is my condition."

"Deal." He moved in now, his lips almost coming to grace her.

It was at that moment that Christine snapped her entire body away, leaving Erik to stare blankly at the space her lips once occupied. He practically growled before turning away himself, his arms folding as he glared pathetically out the window.

"Will you take me out again sometime?" she asked politely after a moment. Her smile sweet and sympathetic as he looked at her with what seemed like relief.

"Anywhere you want." He answered rather quickly, and Christine resisted the urge to roll her eyes at just how much of a romantic he tried to be. In a way, she was relieved too, the night was rather exciting, and it seemed her stranger was quite caring. Unfortunately for him that didn`t change much, she still believed in slow love. They type that takes years to blossom, the type that outweighs any other form. The best things in life are the ones that take the longest to procure.

On the other hand, the evening was rather revealing. The way the man carried himself seemed to coincide with his work. They were all mysterious, tragic and devastating. Something had happened to him, something awful that shaped him into such a hurting figure. That mask probably had something to do with whatever it was. Why else would the man wear it if he wasn`t trying to hide something? Christine was in no way going to push him to reveal whatever haunted him, but she did know there was something. She would try to be sympathetic, try to understand the pain she knew nothing about. Even though she couldn`t be the wife he wanted, she would do her very best to be a positive influence in his life.

Suddenly the carriage came to an abrupt stop and Erik instinctively placed an arm over Christine`s lap to keep her from being tossed around. The girl looked up at him once the carriage settled down. He saw the question in her eyes, and wasn`t entirely sure how to answer. Perhaps there was a deer or something on the road? For a few moments he waited, hoping the chauffer would sort out whatever the issue was. Minutes passed, nothing happened.

"I think you should come take a look at this sir." The chauffer`s voice cut through the silence.

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Ooh, is that a cliff-hanger I sense?


	6. The Decision

When your too excited about the next chapter that you throw the whole daily update thing aside and just post it right away.

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"Wait here." Erik deepened his voice ever so slightly, making sure the words came across as an order, not a suggestion. Quietly, he placed his hand on Christine`s shoulder, a gesture of comfort before he exited the carriage. He noticed her peeking from the window as he walked to the front. The chauffeur had come down as well, hat in hand as he inspected the obstacle blocking their path. Laying over the road was a grand oak tree. Muttering a curse to himself, Erik walked around to see if there was a way around it. Unfortunately, there wasn`t, the trunks tips touched the forests on either side of the road, making it impossible to get around. On a wilder note, he wondered if the carriage could jump the trunk, considering how thick it was he doubted it.

"What should we do sir?" the chauffeur asked.

"It`s a trap," Erik muttered, knowing all too well what this was. "Look at this tree, it`s been cut manually. Whoever did it expects us to walk on foot down the road, no doubt they`ll ambush us then."

"They, sir?"

"Robbers, bandits, muggers, take your pick," Erik replied rather grimly.

"What should we do?" the chauffeur decided to ask, and regrettably the masked man took a long look at his surroundings. The forest on either side of them was thick with oak trees, the moon barely lighting up the dark spaces in between. That would be a perfect place for an ambush to be hiding. It also would be a perfect place for him to be hiding. It`s difficult to find things in the dark, even if you are in the dark yourself.

The issue was the chauffeur. Two people are loud enough, three would only be asking for trouble.

"Take the carriage to an inn, return to the manor once this has been cleared up." Erik reached around to the little sack in his coat, dropping a fair amount of francs in the chauffeur`s hand.

"And what of you and Miss Daae?" he asked.

Erik didn`t reply and with a heavy sigh the chauffeur turned back to his seat in the carriage. It was then that Erik moved to open the door, presenting his hand to a concerned Christine. The girl thankfully took it without question and he helped her down to her feet.

"What`s wrong?" she asked her eyes falling on the massive oak tree.

"Do you fancy a walk my dear?" he mumbled sarcastically, taking her hand in his as he began to lead her into the forest.

"Why are we going in there?" she asked as he helped her duck under a branch.

"Roads unsafe." He replied shortly.

"What about the carriage?"

"The chauffeur`s taking it to an inn."

"Why don`t we just go to the inn too?"

"Unsafe."

"Then why would you send the chauffeur there?"

"Unsafe for us I mean." His voice now dropped to a whisper as he turned to her. "Christine, you must keep quiet from this point on, stealth is important, we can`t attract any attention. Look at how were dressed, silver necklaces and silk cloaks. If we go to an inn we`ll practically be advertising our wealth. Don`t you think that will catch the attention of some low life? Inn`s have no guards, no security. The only safe place for you is the manor."

"But isn`t this forest even more dangerous?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"I asked you to be quiet woman," Erik replied, his whisper even more harsher this time. "You`re safe with me."

The girl opened her mouth to say more, but the man practically slapped his hand over her lips, staring at her with a slight hint of annoyance. The girl got the message and rolled her eyes before pulling away. They continued their journey in slow silence. Erik kept the pace slow to keep her dress from getting caught in branches, and her feet from slipping on fresh mud.

Erik knew the forest was dangerous, especially if there were bandits within it. But compared to an inn, he was more in his element here. It was dark, easy to sneak around, easy to act. If anyone did show up, he could easily dispatch them without making a noise. In an inn, on the other hand, he`d be beyond uncomfortable. The man liked his privacy, he liked to keep to himself. That was why his manor was all the way at the end of the street, grand and isolated with fields rolling on and on, on either side. That`s why he chose the best, most highest boxes in the opera house. The darkness and height kept him hidden from the peering eyes below. He only traveled at night, it was far more calming than the burning rays of sunlight against his face.

Now compare all that to an inn. The thought of one disgusted him to no end. Bustling bodies everywhere, each room filled to the brim with strangers. He could imagine the masses in the tavern, drinking and bickering in those annoying voices. One look at him and he`d be mentally ridiculed by all of them. Why`s he got that mask on? What`s with all that black? Take a look at that broad beside him.

Erik`s fist clenched at that last thought.

Suddenly something caught his ear and instantly his grip tightened around Christine`s wrist, bringing the girl to an immediate stop.

They listened in complete silence.

Finally, they heard a ribbit, followed by a small bullfrog making its way across them.

"Good thing you stopped us." Christine whispered sarcastically, "This frog almost killed us."

Damn you woman.

oOoOoOo

Erik awoke in his bed that morning feeling refreshingly sore.

He had spent all of the last night leading his angel through the woods. Eventually, she got tired and despite her attempt at seeming strong, the man could see just how much she was struggling. Finally, he had given in and ordered her to let him carry her. The thickness of the woods made it impossible for him to hold her bridal style, so he had insisted she get on his back. Imagine walking through a forest for two hours straight. Now add a woman onto your back.

Yeah, it isn`t fun.

By the time they had arrived at his manor, she had fallen asleep, and on top of everything he was forced to carry her up the staircase and into her room. It was needless to say that the man fell asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow.

Now, grumbling to himself, Erik sat up to see he was dressed in his dirt-stained suit from last night. Smoothly he dropped the cloak around his neck, feeling his face to see the mask was still there. Considering he slept in it, there was no doubt an imprint on his face.

Deciding now to dwell on what had been done, he went over to ring the bell for his servant. Erik spent the next few minutes waiting on his bed, still a little exhausted from last night's effort.

"M`lord?" the valet tapped at the door before Erik grumbled a come in.

"Is Miss Daae awake?" the masked man asked groggily before sitting up.

"I believe not. She hasn`t rung for her lady's maid yet." The valet answered politely.

"When she does awake, have Anna prepare her a bath." Erik ordered curtly, "As for now, I`d like you to fill me up one too. Tell the cook to delay breakfast, and have Anna bring up the mail. I sent Fermin an opera yesterday, he`s usually quick to reply back."

"Of course," The valet nodded in understanding before disappearing.

Once again Erik laid his head back on the bed, staring blankly at the canopy. Silently he wondered if Christine was grateful. Perhaps this unplanned attempt at gentlemanliness would be enough to convince her to marry him. He could only hope so. Minutes ticked by as Erik closed his eyes, almost falling asleep yet again. Unfortunately, the valet`s returning made that impossible. He quickly took a bucket to the nearby tiled room, filling the empty copper bathtub there with water. Then he disappeared again, only to fetch bucket after bucket until the tub would be full.

Erik simply waited.

"Um…"

The man glanced at the doorway to see Anna standing there, looking hesitant as she toyed with the envelopes in her hand.

"These arrived." She said quickly, handing him only a single letter before heading off.

"Anna." His voice came out a lot darker than he intended.

"Y-yes?" you could tell she took it the wrong way, assuming she was in trouble.

"What of that one?" he tried to soften his tone this time, referring to the letter she still held onto.

"Oh… this one`s for Miss Daae."

Christine had a letter? From who? Erik didn`t mean to pry, he didn`t mean to obsess or be unfair. But curiosity and concern got the better of him. It would be fair to at least see who was writing to his wife-to-be.

"I`ll give it to her over breakfast. For now, I want you to prepare her that bath." He ordered. This time allowing his voice to sound as intimidating as it pleased. It clearly worked as the girl handed him the letter without question, quickly scurrying out the door.

A little amused at just how easy that was, Erik turned the letter around to see who it was from.

 _Vicomte de Chagny_

The man twitched slightly at the name, his expression growing grimmer by the second. All thought of privacy and respect disappeared from his mind as he flicked the letter open, pulling out the note within it. How dare that brat write to Christine. His Christine.

 _Little Lottie, I have received your letter._

 _It pains me that I was so far, that I let you suffer through the ordeal of your father`s death alone. You know I love you. You know I`d do anything to be with you. If only I could get away from this duchess, if only I could get away from my parents. She is a kind woman, caring and sweet. But I do not love her the way I love you._

 _It pained me when you ignored my letters, but I understood. It is I who deserve nothing from you. Oh, Christine, I would die for you. Yet I can`t even be there when you need me._

 _Do not marry this stranger._

 _I will help you forget all your wide-eyed fears, let my words warm you, let them calm you. I will be your freedom Christine, I will dry your tears. I promise to guard you and guide you every waking moment. I promise I will keep you safe, you can put all your fears far behind you._

 _Wait for me Christine._

 _That is all I ask of you._

 _Raoul._

Erik resisted the urge to tear the note into pieces. That resistance didn`t last long though as he did, in fact, crumple it before tossing it aside. That man had said he had received her letter. Had Christine sent a letter? How did he not notice? What had she said? Did she ask him to save her? To take her far away?

And here he was thinking they were making progress.

Erik felt hurt and betrayed. He had done his very best, and here she was asking her knight in shining armor to take her away. Was he truly such a monster? Even when he tried so hard to be a gentleman, his angel still saw him as a monster? But why? What had he done wrong? He hadn`t even shown his face… unless. Did he? Had she sneaked a glance when he was alone in his room? Impossible, he would have noticed. Perhaps she just presumed he was hideous behind it. Why else would he wear the mask? She was a clever girl, she would have made that connection.

Damn her. Damn him. Damn it all.

"The bath is ready M`lord." The valet suddenly said before noticing just how distressed his master looked. The valet knew it was best to give his master privacy when he got like this, so he left, gently closing the door, and giving Erik the solitude he desired.

Slowly, subconsciously, Erik stood up off the bed, picking up the crumpled letter as he made his way into the other room. His expression was rather blank, his eyes intense but lifeless at the same time. He undid the top half of his suit, letting the shirt and jacket drop. With his pant`s still on, he leaned against the edge of the tub. His fingers went to his mask, and harshly he tugged it off, practically throwing it against the opposing wall. It fell with a sharp thud, sitting there and staring back at him almost mockingly.

With a little bit of effort, he forced his eyes away from the mask, instead turning to his hands. They looked as normal as could be, long slender fingers built for piano-playing. His attention then turned to the toned muscles of his chest. He was in great physical shape, tall and powerful. Didn`t women find that attractive? He was no doubt in better shape than that Chagny fellow, he could protect her far better than that man could. And what of the prettier side of his face? That side was handsome, wasn`t it? It should make up for the lack of the other one. Surely, it would be enough. Surely he would be enough to please a woman?

His eyes fell back on the mask.

Oh, who was he kidding? No one could love him. Even his best efforts weren`t good enough. For a moment he wondered if there was something more he could have done. He concluded that there wasn`t. Even if he was emperor of the world with a godlike body, this face could never earn the love of anyone, much less someone of Christine's caliber.

He was the monster that secretly dreamed of beauty.

Too bad dreams don`t come true.

Oh God, was he crying? Damn it.

Quickly, Erik ran his hands over his eyes. He sat there for a while, letting his emotions run their course, waiting for the pain and heartache to end. He waited for what felt like forever before realizing the hurt wasn`t going to end. So instead he let that pain turn to anger. It was what he would often do, use his emotions to fuel his rage. If he couldn`t get a happy ending, no one could. Not his angel and definitely not this Vicomte. As a matter of fact, he`ll use the bastard`s word in his own favor.

He tried to be honest, he tried to be kind.

But now it seems he had no choice but to be a monster.

Erik tightened his fist around the letter, getting off the tub and heading back into his room. He violently opened the drawers of his desk, lighting a candle before reaching for his pen and ink. It took a while to get settled, but once he was ready he pulled out an empty piece of paper.

 _Little Lottie, I have received your letter._

He began to write those very words on the new paper, the artistic side of him finding no issue in mirroring Raoul`s writing style. If Christine expected a letter from her knight in shining armor, then who was he to deny her?

He continued to write:

 _It pains me that I was so far, that I let you suffer through the ordeal of your father`s death alone. You know I care for you. But I no longer love you, Christine. The duchess is a kind woman, caring and sweet, everything I desire._

 _It pained me when you ignored my letters, but I think it was for the best. There was nothing left for us my dear, no point in worsening our shared pain. So I have chosen to marry Lorette, and I suggest you marry your stranger. There is no one else for you now, certainly not me, for I cannot leave my Lorette. I have found my new life, and you should too._

 _Is he kind to you? Does he care? Does he protect you? Is there love in his words? Compassion in his actions?_

 _If yes, then you should marry him, Christine. Take a leap of faith._

 _That is all I ask of you._

 _Raoul._

Erik felt nothing and everything as he placed his pen down.

With that done he reached for the envelope he had tossed aside from earlier, straightening it out before slipping the new note into it. He then sealed it perfectly.

oOoOoOo

"This arrived for you in the mail."

Christine looked up from her breakfast to see Erik slide a letter across the table. Placing her fork down, she picked it up, surprised to see Raoul`s title on it. She had practically forgotten all about the letter she had sent him that night.

"Anna accidently gave it to me with my own mail. She didn`t realize it was for you." He explained, his fingers tapping expertly against the table. "I am curious, though, who is this De Chagny?"

"An old friend." She answered. "I wrote to him for counseling." Christine decided to explain herself properly, she didn`t want Erik getting the wrong idea. "I needed his opinion, with papa dead I felt quite lonely."

The man winced, practically stabbing his toast with his fork.

"Oh I`m sorry, that came out wrong." Christine mentally slapped herself for being so crude. How could she say she was lonely when he was going out of his way to keep her company. "I mean I-"

"I understand." He raised his hand for silence and it was then Christine noticed how depressed he looked. Even more than usual.

Sighing, Christine turned her attention to the letter. Let`s see if Raoul can shed some light on her situation. Gently she opened it, pulling the note out before unfolding it. Even before reading it she glanced at Erik; the man was focused on his jam and toast, paying her no mind. Perhaps he wasn`t bothered at all by the letter or her words. Well, that was a relief.

Quietly Christine read the letter.

She had to read it again, and again, at least four times before putting it down.

He loved the duchess. But what of all their talks, what of all his promises? What of the house they always envisioned, the children by their feet? Was all that for nothing, did it all mean nothing? Of course. Christine should have known that chapter ended the day he obeyed his parents over her. She should think of him as a friend and only a friend. In truth, she did, it was just a little surprising to see how easily his feelings had changed.

With those thoughts settled, she turned her attention to the advice bit of the letter. He had practically told her he was done with her and she should simply get a move along. Was it wrong she expected more?

 _Is he kind to you? Does he care? Does he protect you? Is there love in his words? Compassion in his actions?_

Christine glanced at Erik.

Yes, he was kind to her. Yes, he did care about her well-being and enjoyment. He protected her when they crossed those woods. His words were always so romantic, always so deep and meaningful. He even carried her when she got tired, one of the most compassionate things anyone could have done.

Yes, even though she barely knew him, she did care about this man.

But she didn`t love him.

 _If yes, then you should marry him, Christine. Take a leap of faith._

But what if she didn`t want to take a leap of faith? What if she wanted to be sure when it came to love?

 _There is no one else for you now, certainly not me, for I cannot leave my Lorette._

 _There is no one else for you now, certainly not me,_

 _There is no one else for you now,_

That was the line that stuck in Christine`s head. Raoul was right. There was no one else for her now. There was nothing for her to do with the little trust she had except hand it over. Never before had Christine felt so defeated. She thought she knew helplessness when her father died, but this was twice as worse. It was as if all the tragedies in her life came together to make one thing clear to her. That she was always going to be helpless. That her life was over. That there was no one else for her.

"Erik." Christine breathed the words out, unable to hide the lifelessness in her tone.

The man didn`t reply, instead, he turned to face her, masked head propped on his hand as he raised an eyebrow for her to continue.

"I`ll marry you."

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I can`t tell if I should be happy that they`re finally getting married or if I should be devastated by how it happened.

:l

Let me know what you think?


	7. A Shared Bed

"So, what do I call myself now?" Christine asked as she sat there in the carriage, expression glum as she toyed with the hem of her dress. You would expect a bride to be delighted on her wedding day, yet here she was looking exhausted and depressed. It seemed Erik truly was rubbing off on her. Her expression practically mirroring the disappointment in his own eyes.

Erik himself was in no way pleased. The ceremony had been small and quiet, the staff and the priest were the only people in the church. Well, not priest, it was actually an archbishop, Erik was sure to invest in the best. He knew though that any girl would want a proper celebration. One with loud music and dancefloors, family and friends on either side. But Erik couldn`t give her that. Between the two of them, they probably had the least friends and family in all of Paris. So instead, things were minimalistic. The ceremony started, the archbishop read, and the ceremony ended. The staff made a little applause and with that done the two were now back in the carriage.

Even though everyone was dressed for a wedding, a look at either the groom or brides expression would make a person think it was a funeral. How horribly unlike what Erik wanted. He wasn`t as happy about the wedding. True he loved his angel to no end, but the dishonesty was eating him alive. He had no problem with decepticon, but the fact that she only married him because all her other options were extinguished was depressing. To think in her eyes he was second best. Not even that, probably tenth best, if not the worst.

He couldn`t even enjoy what should have been an incredible day.

"Erik?" Christine poked his shoulder, earning his attention.

"Hm?" the man barely muttered in reply.

"What do I call myself? Christine what? I never caught your last name."

"Ah." Erik decided he might as well lighten the mood. "A last name? How terribly plain that would be." He spoke with a hint of desperate sarcasm.

She raised an unamused eyebrow.

"Destler. Christine Destler." He sighed.

The girl repeated the name to herself, trying to grow accustomed to it.

oOoOoOo

Christine felt strangely out of place at the dinner table tonight. Though nothing but her title had changed, the girl felt different, as if she was a completely new person. What a foolish thought, Christine did her best to dismiss it. Perhaps it`s the dress? She was still wearing the wedding gown he had bought for her, a gown that strangely fit her perfectly. She even had the ring on her finger still, small diamonds glittering in the chandeliers light. She would put it away later, somewhere safe so she wouldn`t lose it. She also couldn`t wait to change into something less glamourous.

Dinner had been prepared for them as soon as they had arrived and so there was no time for changing. The food, though it was always quite good, was even more extravagant due to the wedding. The cook had truly outdone herself, littering the table with grand dishes worthy of any king. What Christine found most amusing was the yogurt dressing that had somehow slipped by Erik`s dairy ban.

"I have already ordered your things to be moved to the master bedroom." The man suddenly spoke, looking rather tired as he addressed his new wife.

"Why?" the girl didn`t remember any mention of such a thing.

"We are married now my dear." He replied rather bitterly, a fact that particularly annoyed Christine. It was him who wanted all of this, why in the world would he be anything but delighted? "It is expected of a husband and wife to share a bed."

Ah, that`s right.

Sharing a bed…

Christine swallowed whatever it was on her fork, reaching for a glass of red wine before asking for a refill. Erik allowed the footman to do so, and the girl downed yet another glass. Christine was about to plead for more when she realized something. Perhaps getting drunk isn`t her best bet. Not only is it unladylike, but muddled judgement may only make the situation worse. She should keep calm, cool, and relaxed. Perhaps he honestly means to share a bed for sleeping purposes and sleeping purposes alone.

Yes, that`s probably it.

Christine sighed. No, it probably wasn`t it, and she knew that. She wasn`t ready though. She was scared and uneducated. She didn`t even know what to do, how to act, what to say, where to go. No one had taught her the specifics. And was she really willing to give away her innocence to this man? Well. She did marry him. That probably means yes.

"I`m going for a walk." Erik suddenly stood up, leaving his plate mostly full as he headed towards the door. A footman held it open for him and Christine watched him leave in silence.

To the girls complete and utter horror, the first thought that came to mind was to run.

What in the world was wrong with her? She had willingly married this man of her free will and here she was scheming to run away. Besides, she had already been through this before. She knew there was nowhere and no one to run to. Her closest, living friend had all but abandoned her. She was going to spend the rest of her life as Miss Christine Destler, whether she liked it or not.

Her best bet was to learn to like it. Or better yet learn to love it. Learn to love him.

Christine stood up, noticing that her appetite was also gone as she left the dining room. She considered heading upstairs, but then realized that her room would indeed be empty and she had no idea where the master bedroom was. Considering her options, Christine did something no proper aristocratic woman ever should. She headed downstairs towards the servant`s quarters.

It was impossible to stay quiet when she had such a massive gown in tow, and so rather loudly, Christine made her way down the rickety wooden stairs. Her attention now turned to a narrow hallway, all the candles aligning it were unlit. There were open doorways on either side of the halls, most of them dark except for one which seemed to be radiating light. As she neared it, she heard laughing and talking, all good signs she presumed. As soon as she poked her head into the room all chairs were pushed back in a rush as the servants scrambled to their feet.

"M`lady." The butler, Carlyle, quickly addressed her, his tone surprised but not unpolite.

"I`m sorry to interrupt your dinner." Christine now noticed that their table was mostly full with plates of food. "But may I borrow Anna for a moment?"

The maid in question looked like a deer caught in headlights under Carlyle`s stern gaze.

"She hasn`t done anything wrong." Christine quickly added, and the maid sighed as the butler softened a little.

"Go on then." He said to Anna, allowing her to wipe her hand`s on a nearby rag before heading off into the hallway. Christine backed up a little too, giving the servants their privacy as they resumed dinner. Now in the unlit hallway, the two girls stood in fair silence.

"You could`ve rang for me Miss." Anna whispered as if she was in trouble.

"My rooms been cleaned out. I did not know where the master bedroom was." Christine explained softly.

"Oh, right. Mister Carlyle was tellin` me `bout that." Anna looked even more anxious now. "How stupid of me to forget. You probably need help changing Miss. Follow me to the master`s room."

"Anna wait." Christine grabbed the maids arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"I… I need to ask you something." Christine began regretting her decision to come down here immediately.

"Anything Miss?"

"It`s quite… how should I say this… crude." Christine chose her words carefully.

"Now you must tell me." Anna seemed to be getting curious herself.

"Erik and I are married now."

"Yes, we all know."

"And now we are to share a bed…"

"Yes?"

"Anna." Christine bit her lip anxiously, "I don`t know what to expect. I don`t know what to do or what I`m supposed to do. I`ve never really been taught any of this."

"Oh, my heavens." Anna seemed to be a mix of flustered and amused as she quickly covered her smile with her hand. "Let`s go sit outside, I`ll try my best to… explain."

Christine followed the young maid down the dark hallway, allowing her to open a small wooden door that lead to the back of the estate. There were small picnic tables there, and with a little effort, Christine managed to seat herself in one. Going outside was a good call. The coolness of the night air felt nice against the young girl`s skin, balancing out the heat in her cheeks rather well.

"I`ve never done it myself." Anna began, her smile a little scandalous as she continued to whisper. "But the head maid educated us all on what to expect when were married. Of course, some of the other girls told me the most important things. Tania, this maid who used to work `ere, said the most important, most vital thing, is not to cry."

"Why would I cry?' Christine asked.

"Well Tania says the first few times hurt awfully bad. But don`t let men see any tears, that makes `em angry."

Christine nodded vigorously, mentally noting every word the maid uttered.

oOoOoOo

"Please don`t leave me." Christine practically whimpered as Anna finished helping her into her nightgown.

"You`ll be fine Miss." Anna managed a weary smile before the door to the bedroom was opened. The very masked man that Christine feared more than ever before now entered the room. He too had changed, instead of his usual lavish suits, he now wore nothing more than a black bed-robe and trousers.

"Good luck." Anna whispered before politely excusing herself from the room.

Christine didn`t move from where she sat at the dresser. Instead of looking at him she chose to wander the room with her eyes, pretending to be fascinated by the walls or something. In truth, the room was decorated rather extravagantly. The walls were painted white with interesting black patterns lining the borders. There was a large Victorian dresser and mirror against the wall, only a meter away from the massive wardrobe that no doubt held both their clothing. There were nightstands on either side of the massive emperor-sized bed in the middle of the room. The sheets were completely black and it was adorned with at least a dozen pillows. The canopy was much taller too with dark posts on each corner holding it up. It looked like that ideal fantasy bed you would only dream of.

"Christine."

The girl tried her best to resist, tried her best to stare at the bed for the rest of the night. But how could she resist his call? Christine turned to look at him.

"You look mortified." He scoffed, looking almost amused as he walked right past her and onto the bed.

Well you`d be mortified too if you learned the things I learned only hours ago, Christine thought rather bitterly.

The girl waited for him to act as Anna said he would. She waited for him to grab her, throw her onto the bed and begin their dark descent. Instead, he laid himself on the bed, head against the pillows as he stared up at the canopy in silence. His hands had clasped over his stomach and he _just_ laid there.

Christine mentally screamed. Did he expect her to initiate? Oh God, she wasn`t sure if she could. Her knees practically felt like jelly as she sat there and stared, praying that he would finally come to his senses and take charge.

Minutes passed and neither of them moved.

The girl finally could take no more, the anticipation, the stress, the fear was eating her alive. She wanted to get it over with. She could do this.

Biting back her fear, Christine stood up. It took a lot of effort and willpower but she managed to shuffle her way onto the bed. For a while she too laid there, the hugeness of the bed put at least half a meter of space in between them. Calmly, he tilted his head to look at her, emotions unreadable as their gazes met.

"You look heavenly." He whispered the words rather tenderly.

Considering the special occasion, Anna had her dressed in her most scandalous nightgowns. It was one she would only wear when she was alone in her bedroom with no plans but sleep in mind. But now it was being misused as a means to seduce the man she had married. The white texture of it was opaque, the material a light silk. There were some lace designs curving around her breasts, coming to dip at her stomach and flow as a skirt around her thighs. The skirt though, had a long slit running up one side, leaving more than an appropriate amount of leg on display.

Christine felt like a whore as she found the courage to scoot closer to him, finger barely coming to grace the side of his face. He watched her carefully for a moment, analyzing her every movement before finally coming closer. Christine was a little startled at how quickly he got on top of her, toned arms on either side of her head as his lips pressed into hers. She had kissed before, but nothing as extreme as this. Her mouth was practically pried open as his tongue slipped into hers, dominating the kiss in every sense of the word.

Something instinctive took control of the girl and she found her hands coming up to tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him closer as she got more accustomed to the feeling. It felt nice. Being kissed like this that is. Well, maybe nice isn`t the right word. More like fun, passionate, exciting.

The feeling suddenly came to an end as he pulled away, examining her breathless expression before sinking down yet again. This time his lips made their way to her neck, leading a trail of cold, soft kisses down to her shoulders. It felt strangely ticklish and pleasant, and Christine couldn`t help the small whimper that escaped her lips. She noticed as his hands came up to his own robe, undoing the knot before tossing them aside. He was unsurprisingly in good shape, and curiously Christine felt her hand wander up his chest, feeling the muscles that made up the man before her. She allowed her finger to trail along his side, before she noticed an indent in his back. It felt like a wound, a scar of sorts, and it seemed there were more than one.

Erik seemed to notice her concern, and quickly he moved her hand down onto the bed, pinning it below his own wrist. His head once again rose to meet her lips, and the two exchanged another passionate kiss.

Christine couldn`t help but notice how easily he restrained her, how weak she was compared to him. Even if she wanted to move her hand, she couldn`t unless he allowed it. This wasn`t some careless kiss with Raoul, this was far more intense, far more primal. Erik was a man, and she was a woman. He would do as he pleased and she would try her best not to cry. Christine shuddered at the though.

The masked man parted from the kiss yet again, his eyes seemed to hold a certain sense of distress as he looked down at her.

"Why are you crying?" he asked softly.

To Christine`s horror he was correct, she could feel a tear slipping. Suddenly all of her calm collectedness crashed down as she felt herself began to tremble. In seconds the girl went from cool and seductive to a weeping mess. She had both hands over her eyes as she cried and cried. All the stress of her life began to weight against her shoulders. From her father`s death to Raoul`s abandonment to this monstrous task before her. She didn`t want any of this. How she wished to just go back in time. To sit there by the fireplace as her mother told her stories and her father played his violin. She just wanted to feel warm, safe and at-home for once. Surrounded by people who knew and loved her unconditionally.

"I`m sorry." Her voice came out all broken as she wept a little more quietly now. The man beside her had pulled her close against his chest, strong arms on either side of her as he just held her in his attempts to be comforting. "Please don`t be angry."

"Why would I be angry?' he sighed.

"Because I cried." She spoke as if she was confessing a horrible sin.

"Do you truly consider me that heartless?" he muttered and judging by his tone Christine presumed she had offended him. "I would never harm you Christine." He held her silently for a moment longer before speaking again. "I have often been denied the pleasures of the flesh and I may have gotten ahead of myself. Forgive me. I will not do anything unless you want me to. Go to sleep."

"What of your marriage rights? And… duty… I." Christine wasn`t sure what to say. By law he had every right to do whatever he deemed fit, yet here he was telling her he would not. This man truly acted as if he loved her.

"Stop tempting me Christine." He said with a hint of dry sarcasm.

"Thank you." She whispered the words, looking beyond grateful as she smiled at him.

oOoOoOo

Erik spent the rest of that night staying bitterly awake. Life truly was cruel to taunt him like this. Here he was dressed in nothing but trousers and his mask with a scantly dressed Christine practically on top of him. How was this fair? A part of him wished he had thrown all the love and kindness aside and had taken what he wanted. Now he would be staying awake and trying to control the raging lust within him, and her little movements and noises weren`t making it any easier.

This woman was going to be the end of him.

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Please review? :3


	8. An Opera Ghost

One of the bright sides of being married to a man like Erik was simply how long one could sleep the day away. Christine, much like everyone else, struggled to arise early, yet did anyways out of duty. Her father would insist and the cook usually had breakfast prepared by 7a.m., it would be rude to make her prepare something separate just because Christine wanted to sleep in. Besides, it was expected for unmarried woman to be present at the dining table for breakfast. This wasn`t the case here though, Erik would usually be missing when she awoke, and since no one came to disturb her, Christine continued to laze away in her bed.

When she would go down he would be in his study, sometimes musing over a book, mostly frustrating over his piano as he composed score after score. Sometimes he wouldn`t be in the house at all, in which case Carlyle would simply say he was off running errands. Christine never bothered dwelling in what that could mean. A man`s business was his own, and something told her it would be boring nonetheless. On a brighter side he would often bring her little knick knacks ranging from roses, to jewels, to all sorts of decorative items.

Needless to say, it kept things interesting.

"Ah, the beast has awoken." Erik scoffed as his fingers came to rest against his keys, his eyes were calculating as ever, but he managed a soft smile.

"Beast?" Christine crinkled her nose as she leaned over his piano, taking a glance at the sheet music he was writing.

"Forgive my teasing." He smoothly took her hand in his own, pressing it against his face gently. "In truth, it is I who is the beast. One that so longingly awaits his angels company."

"You`re terribly cheesy Erik." She responded nonetheless, allowing her hand to softly trace his jawline. He was a complete puppy when it came to touch, he absolutely adored it. Christine had wondered why he craved it so, why he`d always be so delighted when she`d touch him. At first she presumed it was simply because he was a man, but Raoul had never been this pleased with her little caresses and brushes. It was then that she figured it was lack of touch that made Erik crave it so. The man was always so secluded, he never seemed to have friends over, and it no doubt got lonely living in this big house alone. He must rarely get to be so close to anyone.

"Do you get lonely?" she asked rather carefully as he returned his attention to the piano.

"No."

"Don`t you have any friends?" she decided to try a different approach.

"Mere men don`t interest me." He replied, slowly playing a few notes before adding them to his sheet music with a pen.

"What of women? Any lady-friends?"

"One. You`d like her, she`s quite clever yet somehow always manages to appear innocent."

The way his eyes glimmered revealed he was talking about none other than his wife.

"And parties? Don`t you ever attend any?" she continued her questioning.

"Gatherings don`t suit my choice of attire." He muttered a little half-heartedly this time, no doubt referring to his mask. A mask that still puzzled Christine. A mask that gave her an idea.

"A masquerade!" she announced it rather loudly, breaking Erik`s focus as he glanced at her with one perfectly raised eyebrow. "Father would host them now and then, he seemed to like them quite a lot. Why not host one yourself, here? It would be nice."

"Who are we to invite?" he said rather ominously, as if he dreaded the idea.

"Everyone. Publish it in the papers, grand and mysterious opera composer opening his house for a night of celebration!" Christine was quite dead set on the idea, her look of determination and excitement only further proving it. "Invite acquaintances, business partners, anyone really. As long as they wear a mask, entry is granted. What do you think?"

"What exactly is it we`re celebrating?" he emphasized each word bitterly.

"Well…" the girl looked away in though, taking a moment to think before her eyes lit up. "Your newest opera of course. You promised me one with a happy ending. Write it by tonight, and I`ll run down and have the papers publish the event. You can present your newest masterpiece and we`ll toast to it."

"My dear." He sighed, this time standing up so they were eye-to-eye. "It`s a relief to see my angel bright and cheerful again but an opera takes weeks to write, sometimes months."

"What are you working on?" she asked suddenly, and Erik figured she was attempting to change the subject. Why exactly, he wasn`t sure, but he decided to answer anyways.

"A new story."

"Tell me about it?"

"Why?"

"Erik…" she said his name with a tint of encouragement, before placing a comforting hand on his sleeve. He brightened up immediately at her touch.

"There`s an opera-house." He began, "Unfortunately for the investors, it is haunted by a man, one they presume is a ghost. He falls in love with a singer, she denies him for another. He murders and sabotages eventually kidnapping her. It is a happy ending though I suppose. In the end he gives her up, she gets with the man she loves, and the ghost is killed."

"That sounds awful." Christine frowned at the dark and gruesome story he was stirring. "Change it."

"Change it?" he repeated the words with a slight, barely noticeable tinge of threat.

"We`re going to make it a much happier story." She declared softly, "He should sabotage away, be as brooding as he pleases, but he shouldn`t murder."

"He`s not alright though." Erik`s voice had also dropped a few octaves, becoming more of a whisper now. "This man is not alright at all. He knows it, he knows he isn`t normal, that he`s a monster. An awful monster that deserves nothing but hell. He would murder away and away, not by his choice though. But something else. Something that forces him to wallow in blood… he`s not a man you`d like, but I know he`d love you nonetheless."

"Then this singer will help him." She spoke in a more comforting manner, as if she could see just how much Erik was hurting about the matter. Christine didn`t know why, but he seemed and sounded pathetic right now. It`s a cruel word to use; 'pathetic', but in all honesty, that`s just the way he looked. Like a struggling, wounded animal trying to find some peace. Maybe one day she would figure out why. Figure out what horribly painful secret plagues him. "The singer will show him compassion, she will help him change his views, his morals, his soul and everything. In the end, even if he has done horrible things, she will forgive him, and she will help him change. In the end of the opera, she will not deny him her love, they will escape away to begin their own little life. The other lover can remain her friend for eternity if he pleases, but her heart will belong to the opera ghost."

"It`s not that easy to forgive someone, especially a monster." Erik only seemed to be growing more bitter by the second. "Don`t act like you can."

"I don`t know if _I_ can, but this singer most certainly can." Christine replied, "It is only an Opera Erik. It is only a story. You get to decide what the characters can and can`t do."

He didn`t say anything, and with a heavy heart Christine realized just how sad and frustrated he seemed. Whatever was troubling him was getting worse, and the girl longed for him to simply reveal what it was. She was slowly considering asking him herself.

"I`ll sing." Christine added after a moment of thought, "I can be the singer he falls in love with. I`m not such a brilliant singer myself but I can try, if you would like me to?"

He just looked at her, sad as ever as he slowly sighed. A few minutes of silence passed before Erik mumbled an okay. Christine had hoped he would have been more pleased, but she presumed the earlier issue still hung over him. What in the world was it that made this man so sad? So devastatingly sad? The girl would assume that he lived a lavish and wonderful life. He was rich as can be, had a career he adored, and an estate to die for. Now, he even had a companion, one that wasn`t entirely willing but was slowly growing accustomed to her new life. What more could a man want? What more could make him happy?

Suddenly Christine realized something.

Other then companionship, how else do wives make their husbands happy? Through pleasure of course. Pleasure she was denying him. Could that be why he was so upset? Surely, such a thing wouldn`t call for that much dismay. No, of course not. There must be something else depressing him, a matter such as lust was far too petty for such a thoughtful man. But then again, lord knows how the minds of men work.

"So be it." Erik finally spoke, his voice forced into steadiness. "You have won me into writing this quite foolish story-line… and now it is my turn to win you over to my own plans. How do you feel in regards to an outing?"

Christine raised an eyebrow as he slowly took her hand in his, leading her out of the study with a mild pace in place.

"A walk." He clarified before coming to a stop and turning back to add; "First and foremost is brunch, afterwards I must attend to some payments, and then tonight we shall go for our walk."

Christine submissively nodded along.

oOoOoOo

Erik was in an odd mood as he led Madam Destler down the street, her arm entwined with his as she appreciated the gardening flowers that grew along the pavement. The nighttime -at least in Erik`s opinion- was the best time for walks. The moon seemed to set a gorgeous silver film over everything it touched, colours just seemed far more centered and brilliant. For instance, the pink tulips Christine was gazing at practically shimmered, the colour coming to life as it swayed with the gentle breeze. The stars were also quite nice, personally the man himself had seen far better views in the countryside, but they were quite heavenly here too. Though you couldn`t see the various colours that made up the multiple, glowing galaxies in the country – you could see a vast number of stars dotting the sky here as well.

Although the most beautiful thing illuminated by the moon tonight would have to be his darling Christine. He knew how cliché that sounded, but he simply couldn`t deny such a fact. He was so lucky to have her, any man with eyes and ears could find a way to appreciate and desire the angel before him. He was luckily the man to capture her first. Wait, man wasn`t the right word. Bitterly Erik reminded himself yet again that he was no man, but a monster. One so horrible as to lie and cheat simply to force a girl into marriage.

A girl who should honestly be grateful, Erik made an attempt to defend himself. Didn`t he have everything a woman could want? Power, wealth, charm? Ah, that`s right, he did lack the looks. But was that really so important? He had everything else. Everything else should be enough. But it isn`t, is it? Which is why he had to lie, which is why he had to cheat, which is why at this moment he felt morbid and pathetic.

The man was forcefully tugged out of his thoughts as Christine placed a hand on his sleeve.

"As a child, I feared the darkness." she said with a sort of whimsical nature, as if her attention was lost elsewhere as she spoke. "Papa would sometimes sit by my bed until I fell asleep, that way I wouldn`t have to be frightened. Yet still, the nighttime always held a bit of my fears. I think you prefer it though."

"I most certainly do." Was his curt reply.

"I prefer the day-time, when the sun is high and the world so clear." She continued with that same whimsical tone.

"Clear?" he scoffed. "My darling, the daytime is anything but clear. How can you see anything that is truly the way it is? People pretend in the daytime, put on false acts. The sun you so adore blinds you with it`s garish light. It is in the night when people`s true nature surfaces, it is the moons glow that warms so gently. Can you not feel your senses sharpen, heighten?" he had moved closer now, gloved hands on her sides as he gently watched her. For a moment, he wished he had his piano at hand, then he could perhaps play that one song he had written about the very nighttime he adored. And why was he writing songs about night in all it`s glory? Well let`s just say he often had a lot of free time on his hands.

"Your quite cunning with words." Was her sweet reply.

With a subtle sigh Erik took a moment to appreciate the woman he had in his clutches. So innocent and sweet yet somehow still clever and brave. He had been present in her life since the day he heard her sing. The way she had poured her soul into it still made him tingle at the very thought. What a beautiful, passionate voice for such a beautiful, passionate angel.

Unable to resist the temptation that was Christine Daae, Erik gave in. Softly his lips pressed into hers, and with a small sigh of her own, Christine returned the kiss. They stayed like that for a while, Erik had moved his arms around her, one hand was pressed against her back while the other tangled in her hair. She, on the other hand, had both her hands pressed against his chest, the effort behind her kiss slowly diminishing. After another moment, she parted from him, eyes delightfully glazed as she offered him her hand and continued the walk.

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Short filler chapter is short and filler-ish. I just needed a transition chapter before I plunge into the depths of conflict and plot! Why? Simply because I can`t let Erik`s love life be that easy, now can I? On the bright side, you can expect the next installment in a day or two.

Please review :3 They make me happy.


	9. Masquerade (Part 1)

Raoul was a strange mix or impatient and terrified as he read the latest letter he had received. Unable to escape from his fiancé`s clutches, Raoul had sent a man to investigate the Daae residence and find the whereabouts of Christine. Fortunately, after what had been a week he had received news. Unfortunately, it wasn`t any good news. According to the man, the estate had been sold to some new family, the servants though continued to work there. He had spoken to a few of them, gathering some quotes of interest. The chauffer had given an address to where Christine would be living, and after some research the man had gathered intel on the owner.

Rather sloppily, Raoul dropped the note and reached in to grab the second paper. It was there that the letter continued;

 _The man is supposedly a composer, quite rich in fact. He lives an isolated life, not many people know much about him. Those that did only mentioned how he was very serious and very threatening. One of his buyers mentioned an odd detail. The man apparently wears a mask, he has never seen him without it on. I did go to the police, asked about records and what not. Surprisingly he was linked to many mysterious happenings, none that could be proven so he was left to his own devices._

 _You had instructed if there was danger, I should get Lady Daae away from him at once. I have made attempts, but I can not manage to get a hold of her. There is rumor of a masquerade being hosted, I may try to speak with her then. I await your orders sir. Oh, and I ask that you perhaps consider raising my payment._

 _Louis_

Raoul couldn`t help but frown as he folded the note and placed it aside. With a heavy sigh he gazed down at his desk, rubbing his temple with his two forefingers as he tried to think. To make matters worse, Christine had not even yet responded to his letter. His hired man had told him that there was indeed a wedding, but the reasoning behind it was quite shrouded. Surely Christine wouldn`t have denied his request for her to wait? Surely something must have happened. After a moment of fruitless though he reached for the wine glass beside him, taking a sip and hoping to drown out the stress if only for a minute.

"Raoul?"

A sharp but feminine voice caught the Vicomte`s attention, and regrettably he tilted his head to watch the duchess enter the room. She was dressed in a tight but suitable purple dress, a colour that brought out her darker hair very nicely. She smiled a sultry smile before closing the door behind her and walking towards her husband to-be. Without a word she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, exhaling deeply as she rested her chin over his head.

"You`re missing the party my love." She began to speak in that oh-so-charming voice of hers, one that Raoul was far too used to. "Father has invited our great uncle. He is very important to the family, you should come meet him."

"Lorette please." Was Raoul`s annoyed but sympathetic response.

"Ah, I understand." She began to toy with a strand of his hair, "You are tired of the family? In fairness I`m quite tired of them myself. Everyday someone comes to see us, to bid us happiness, give us martial advice we can do without. Honestly, I`m tired of the fuss, I simply long to marry you and be done with it."

Raoul didn`t respond and with another heavy sigh Lorette released him.

"Have I done something wrong?" she asked softly, "You seem so uninterested, yet I`ve tried so hard to win you over. Fancy dinners every night, clever but kind conversations, gifts and advice. What more do you need from me? How else can I make you happy, my love?"

Raoul remained silent.

"Very well then." She sounded far sadder then she did angry. "I shall go see to my uncle, and you may join us when you see fit."

Raoul waited for her to close the door before he turned back to his desk. He hated this, and a part of him wished he could simply give her the love she wanted. Lorette was kind, charming and a beautiful woman who deserved love as much as anyone else. It was unfair to both of them for him to keep acting this way. Playing the role of willing fiancé while acting like a child throwing a tantrum. It was unfair to her kindness, and it was unfair to his spirit. How could he love her when his heart already belonged to another woman. A woman, who as a matter of fact, needed him now more than ever.

He had to end this. He had to disappoint everyone; Lorette, his parents, her parents, the county, everyone. At least if he revealed his honest feelings, his happiness would be intact. It seemed being away from Christine, he had come to realize who and what really mattered. The two things on the top of that list where Christine Daae, and a life of happiness.

oOoOoOo

"Thank you Henri." Christine smiled at the footman as he quickly grabbed her boxes and began taking them to her room. The better part of today had been spent shopping for fabrics and gowns. It was refreshing, the idea of shopping that is. After her father had died, Christine had barely seen the need to make any new purchases, but ever so slowly she was beginning to move on. Never did she intend to forget her father, he would always live on in her heart, and she would prize his memories for eternity. But she was ready to carry on with her life, at least she thought she was. As an improvement, she was now able to hear his name without breaking into tears.

Speaking of new revelations, Christine had happily come to discover that marriage wasn`t that horrible of a faith as she had dreamed it up to be. True she did not love Erik, for she did not know him, but that didn`t deny the fact that she was happy. The days were smooth and relaxing, breezing by with this wonderfully content air to them. There wasn`t anything to worry or fuss about, and while that did make things boring now and then, it was still nice. Erik wasn`t as demanding as he seemed, after the marriage had been completed, he barely insisted on anything else. To Christine`s amusement, it seemed as if it was she who was becoming demanding. She could practically picture herself becoming that nagging wife all good men feared.

Smiling at that thought, she entered the estate to be greeted with decorations upon decorations lining the main room. The statues and furniture had all been pushed aside to make a massive dance floor in the center of the room. The two stairwells had been lined with black and red ribbons, a colour scheme that went on to decorate the walls. It also seemed as if the chandelier had been lowered, it`s light finally making the room appear as bright and inviting as it should. Additionally, by the looks of it, the servants had yet to complete the decorating as they continued to scatter around the room, holding all sorts of things.

"Ah, you have returned Madam." It was Carlyle that greeted her first, "Impeccable timing, I do require you to taste the appetizers for tonight. Also, which wines shall we be serving?"

"Shouldn`t you ask Erik?" Christine asked a little sheepishly, the whole idea of making decisions seemed a daunting prospect.

"Master Erik requested not to be disturbed." Carlyle explained as politely as ever, "After all he has an opera to finish writing before tonight."

He hasn`t finished it yet? The poor man must have been under quite a bit of pressure. Now that Christine actually thought about it, he never truly seemed to stress over situations like that. He always acted as if he was completely in control, as if he could do anything he wanted. Simply the way he looked at her could convey that message. The intensity in his eyes, the sureness in his posture. As if with a simple command, he could bring all of time to a stop.

"I… I don`t know much about wine or food." Was Christine`s timid response.

"No need to fret Madam, all you must do is taste each one and simply pick the one you like best." Carlyle tried to reassure her before he managed to spot Henri, "Henri, quickly bring up the appetizers for Madam`s tasting."

The boy seemed to reflect Christine`s anxiousness as he quickly made his way down to the kitchen.

oOoOoOo

"There`s a huge turn-up." Anna explained as she worked through Christine`s curls, pinning a few up while letting the majority lay against her shoulders. "The master has yet to make any announcements, but the house is packed. I don`t think Carlyle`s ever been this busy. I sure know the footmen haven`t. Oh, you should have seen Henri`s slip-up earlier, accidently serving uncooked appetizers. Carlyle was so furious, but he managed to sort it out. I reckon poor Henri`s going to get an earful later." Anna had the most comforting habit of rambling on now and then. Initially she was quite shy around Christine, but now, after a bit of time the two grew accustomed to one another. "I think we`re almost done now Madam, your hair is quite nice. How lucky you are to have such thick, dark curls, and here I am stuck with this wispy blonde nonsense."

"I think you look lovely too Anna." Christine replied kindly.

"Could you let the men downstairs now that? I wouldn`t mind a little romance too." Anna placed the pins down, favouring a bottle of scent as she began to dab it against Christine`s neck. "Speaking of romance, how are you and Master Erik getting on?"

"He makes an interesting friend." The girl answered before adding, "He`s hopelessly a romantic I fear, quite cliché."

"Sounds far better than the alternative." Anna mused as she finally reached for the white feathered mask that sat on the dresser. "I actually can`t imagine Master Erik saying anything romantic. He always seems so serious and angry."

"About that…" Christine suddenly remembered something she had yet to figure out. "Why does he wear that mask?"

"I wonder that too." Anna mumbled as she hooked the feathered, masquerade-mask behind Christine`s ears. "No one knows, not even his valet. I think Carlyle saw him without it once, but he never spoke a word of what he saw. Quite the mystery."

"And the way he acts?" Christine continued, "When he isn`t attempting to woo me he seems so depressed, always brooding, always so sad. What happened to him?"

"I`m sorry madam, but I don`t seem to know anything." Anna finally finished with the mask, taking a step back to admire her work. "Maybe you should just ask him yourself?"

Christine didn`t really respond, instead she stood up, taking a moment to gaze at herself. Anna had truly outdone herself, for Christine had never felt this splendid. Her hair was posh and stylish, while her white and teal dress hung low. The gown was a little more light and simple, while the bodice was heavily decorated with lace and sequins. The best part would no doubt have to be the mask, it`s white and feathered exterior gave her an ironically angelic appearance.

"Enjoy yourself Madam." Anna held the door open and with one final shy smile, Christine walked through. The dress wasn`t as grand as a few of her other ones, and so it was a little easier to manoeuver through the halls and down the staircase. Anna wasn`t kidding about the turn-up, the house had never seemed so full. There were fancily dressed people everywhere, ranging from dancing across the floor, to crowding around the dessert table. It seemed as if Paris was truly curious about the mysterious, genius composer and his estate.

Christine barely managed to make it down the staircase when a feminine hand grabbed her sleeve. She looked up to see a finely-dressed, dark-haired woman. There seemed to be something familiar about her, but this girl couldn`t quite place it. On the other hand, she did seem a bit intimidating, perhaps it was her beauty that made Christine nervous? Unlike Christine, this woman was… well a woman! She had all those extravagant curves that society sought after, a beautiful complexion and that mature fierceness only a woman could have. Compared to her, Christine felt like a little girl.

"Pleasure to meet you madam." The woman rapidly shook the girl`s hand.

"I`m sorry but do I know you?' Christine tried to sound as polite as possible.

"Madam know me? No, no, no." it was now that Christine managed to identify the woman`s Italian accent. "Your husband knows me though. I audition for him. I played the leading-lady in many of his work." It seemed as if French wasn`t her first language, but Christine tried not to judge. "You come to my show, no remember?"

It was then that Christine recognized her. The day Erik had taken her to see an opera, the one with the charming knight and the dying man, she played the heroine. The leading lady indeed. What was curious though was how easily the woman had recognized Christine. It seemed her mask didn`t hide her identity as well as she had intended.

"Oh of course." Christine relaxed now, "Speaking of Erik, have you seen him?"

"Mousier Erik, no." was the woman`s reply.

"Well I should find him." Christine excused herself politely now, "Enjoy the party."

The woman wasn`t left alone for long because as soon as Christine moved away she was quickly flocked by men and woman, all of the which asked for her autograph. It appeared the lady was famous, Christine had never met anyone famous before. For a moment, she wondered if she should have asked for her name, then again she could probably figure it out if she asked around. Deciding to drop the subject for now, the girl smoothly made her way down the final steps of the staircase. It looked as if the floor had been freshly polished, for the girl could see a blurred reflection of herself.

"Madam Daae?" once again Christine was greeted by a stranger, this one, unlike the last wore a mask. Carefully she tried to identify him, wondering if he was also part of an opera cast. If he was she couldn`t tell, his mask was far too good at covering up his features. It was large and black with white embroidery lining the edges. He wasn`t dressed too fancy either, instead he adorned a rather simple suit.

On another note, the girl realized he had called her Madam Daae. Technically she was Madam Destler now. She considered correcting him, but then decided it didn`t really matter.

"Have we met before?" she asked the basic questions first, sweet smile on display as she clasped her hands in front of herself.

"No, but I…." he glanced around carefully before offering her his hand, "Dance with me?"

It would be rude not too, even though his offer wasn`t all that polite. Still by nature Christine was kind and so she accepted with a soft nod. He acted quickly, as soon as her hand dropped in his he had moved onto the floor. It wasn`t at all the elegant or slow dance Christine expected, instead it was rather sloppy and rushed.

"My name is Louis." He began to explain as they 'danced'. "I`m here to help you."

"Help me?" she repeated the words with a hint of confusion.

"Can we speak in private, it is quite urgent." He didn`t wait for her answer, instead his hand wrapped around her wrist as he began to tug her towards the back hall. Curious but cautious, Christine resisted slightly. "Please Madam, trust me. You will want to hear this. Your friend sent me after all."

Friend?

Christine was about to ask him to clarify when the music changed. Concerned, the girl turned to glance at the musicians who were perched at one corner of the room. Surprisingly they were no longer playing, their expressions reflecting the confusion everyone felt at that moment.

Where in the world was that music coming from?

As if an answer to her question, a crimson clad figure became known at the top of the stairs. He looked peculiar, his entire suit a mix of red and gold, quite regal really. The mask he wore was white with darker indents to showcase his features, it was almost skeleton-like and covered the top half of his face. The best part no doubt would have to be the velvety red cape he adorned over one shoulder.

As the music intensified, he began walking down the stairs, each step in sync with the daunting beat. After a moment`s though Christine recognized him to be none other than her supposed husband. Who knew he was so theatrical.

"Mousiers I bid you welcome." His voice somehow projected through the whole room while managing to stay soft. Not soft in a nice way, but in a far darker, more sinister way. It was quite alluring really. As he reached the center steps he stopped, dark eyes scanning the room before he dropped his cape with a smooth gesture of his arm. That cape-action looked like it took a bit of practice. "To my humble estate. I have invited you all here in celebration of my newest opera." In his hand, he held a dark, clothed parchment and with a nonchalant glance he dropped it on the floor. "But more importantly, to commemorate it`s leading lady. Madam Christine Destler!"

Considering no one knew who she was, Erik gestured towards the center of the dancefloor, dark eyes on hers as the crowd erupted into cheer.

"Let the celebrating commence." He whispered the last few words yet somehow, they still projected through the room. After a moment, the regular musicians took their cue to begin playing again, and as if nothing had happened, the guests continued on with the party.

"Madam, please!" Louis once again tugged at her wrist, trying to lead her away, and to Christine`s dismay she was unable to resist his strength. Unsuccessfully she tried to pull away from him, knowing all to well following a stranger to god-knows-where couldn`t hold anything good for her.

"Sir please release me." Unbelievably Christine tried to stay polite. She had a feeling that if someone even held a knife to her throat, she wouldn`t drop her manners. They could kill her for all she cared. But hey, at least she died like a proper, lady would. A smile on her face and her last words as polite as could be. The girl grimaced at the thought before once again trying to snatch her wrist back. Needless to say, her thin, weak muscles were no match for the other man.

"Did you not hear the lady?" it was Erik`s dark voice that stopped the man in his path.

Christine watched as Louis took a look at the masked composer. For a moment, he seemed ready to fight, but after a long, careful glance, he decided to release the girl.

"Beg your pardon Mousier, I just wanted to talk to the lady." Louis raised his hands in mock surrender, as if he knew just how dangerous the masked man before him was.

"I will give you this one chance to leave my sight." Erik`s voice was low, threatening.

"Alright, alright, don`t fuss." The man took a few steps back before his eyes darted to Christine`s. "This man, this man `ere is dangerous. Raoul just wanted me to get you to safety."

"Raoul?" Christine repeated the name, it sounded so foreign on her tongue, as if it had been ages since she had heard of him. Truth be told, it had been ages since she had seen him, spoken to him… touched him.

"Mousier you are trying my patient." Erik said the words with a twisted sense of calmness, a calmness his actions contrasted. In a blur, he had lifted Louis by his collar, pinning him against an opposing wall. The strength that had once trapped Christine was no match for Erik, as the masked man held Louis up effortlessly.

"Erik you`re making a scene." Ever so gently the girl placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as she so innocently asked him to let the man go. Sighing, he did. Louis dropped to the floor unceremoniously, looking exasperated and pained as he scrambled onto his feet. He opened his mouth to say something but one glare from Erik convinced him to turn away and storm out.

"What has you so smiling so cheerfully?" Erik asked bitterly, his eyes now on hers.

"He cares." She replied.

"Do tell me you intend to elaborate." He took her by her hand now, leading her back towards the dancefloor.

"Raoul. After his letter, I thought he didn`t care, I thought he just wanted me to forget and move on." Christine looked as if she was in a dream-like haze as she explained. "It felt as if he wanted that too. To forget me. To move on from me. Yet now I`m being told he does care, he sent someone to look after me."

"I`m looking after you." The man couldn`t hide the irritation in his tone.

"I know, I know, it`s just…."she continued to smile that lovelorn smile. As if she was a little girl who had just realized her crush liked her. It was awfully unfitting for a married lady, and though Christine knew that, she couldn`t deny the way her heart lit up at the thought of her friend. "I think he misunderstood though. For some reason, he thought you dangerous. I must write to him later explain our mar- um, I mean our… well…. our … our status."

He looked hurt.

"Forgive me, I`m ruining the mood." She quickly slid her hands into his gloved ones now, "We are here to celebrate your success and nothing else. So… a dance?"

Erik opened his mouth to say something, but instead he turned away. His eyes held a hard glitter to them, and to Christine`s dismay he released her hands. Without saying much else he walked towards the crowd leaving a confused and guilt-ridden Madam Destler in his wake.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Poor Erik, little does he know it`s about to get much worse!

Reviews make me happy :3 so as always, please make me happy?


	10. Masquerade (Part 2)

Erik wasn`t angry as he descended into the crowd. He just needed a breather, and the idea of leaving Christine alone and guilty sounded quite inviting at the moment. Believe it or not the cold and powerful Erik also had feelings. Feelings which could use some consideration now and then. He honestly felt as if he deserved a little appreciation. Lately even he was able to fool himself into thinking he was no more than a mere man. A good husband. A kind one.

But who was he kidding?

In truth, he was a monster. An insane and violent monster. One that had killed, one that had murdered. One that had secretly enjoyed it too. Quickly he tried to shake off the remanence of his past, instead focusing on getting to his study. Last he remembered, he kept his favourite wines there. He needed a drink. After all, he had just come far too close to losing his wife. It seemed the idea of an open-house masquerade was a bad one. That messenger from the Vicomte almost ruined everything.What was he thinking? Letting that girl pester him into opening his house to the public. It was a terrible idea. Considering just how many enemies Erik had, he should have known he was asking for trouble.

The masked man was silent as he entered the study. Instinctively his eyes went to the small table by his piano, the place he had Carlyle keep his wine. Apparently, Erik`s eyes never found their destination. Before he could identify the table, he found himself staring at the back of a stranger. Quietly Erik stepped behind a shelf, allowing the darkness to swallow him up as he moved around, as he moved closer. His prey, on the other hand, looked frantic and impatient as it scurried through the shelves, occasionally rummaging over the littered tables. It was searching for something. For a mere second there was a rustling noise, one that no-doubt came from outside. Still, Erik noticed how the man tensed at the noise, whirling back to scan the room. It was then that Erik noticed it.

The man had a gun under his jacket.

Well this should be interesting, the masked man thought to himself as he silently stepped around a bookshelf. He took another glance at the stranger, this time judging the few meters of space between them. He considered sneaking up behind him, removing his gun, and then revealing his presence as dramatically as humanely possible.

Something he was quite good at really.

The issue with that possibly perfect plan was the man`s nervousness. The stranger, whoever he was, was constantly glancing behind himself, scanning the room again and again. He was anxious, tense, terrified of getting caught.

In truth, he should be. How dare the brat snoop around Erik`s house. Not just that, but he dared to bring a weapon. He dared to threaten the life of everyone here, including his Christine. Now that was a sin even Erik could not forgive.

Deciding to do this carefully, Erik took in a deep, silent breath. His vocal skills were as polished and perfected as could be. So, it was no issue for him to control his voice, make it sound as if someone was on the other side of the room.

" _What are you doing here?"_

The stranger practically jumped before grabbing his gun, his eyes narrowing into tiny, calculating slits. He took a look around the room before his gaze settled at a bookshelf across the room.

"Show yourself." The stranger sneered the words, gun drawn as he slowly walked towards the sound.

Erik had to resist the urge to chuckle at the idiocy of some people. With ease, he moved away from his hiding spot, taking silent but swift strides until he was directly behind the man. Slowly, tentatively, Erik reached for the man`s wrist, securing his own hand around it tightly. The stranger, no doubt startled, turned around, attempting to break free. Obviously, he was no match for the masked composer, but by God did the stranger struggle.

"I said." This time Erik allowed his voice to come straight from the source, formidable as ever as he practically growled the words out. "What. Are. You. Doing here?!"

"Destler…." The man whispered the word, as if confirming what he was seeing. Suddenly the scared stranger became angry, eyebrows furrowing as his fist clenched tightly around his gun. He struggled to point it towards Erik, struggled to shoot him where he stood, but unfortunately for him, he couldn`t.

"Answer me." Erik demanded.

"He sent me."

"Do elaborate Mousier, if you value your life that is." The masked man found it very easy to sound absolutely terrifying when he pleased, and this time was no exception.

"You talk about the value of life?" the mans lips twisted in a wicked grin, "How ironic."

Erik didn`t like the way he was being looked at. The stranger had this accusing glint in his eye, this savage amusement, this knowing smirk. He knew something. Something about the past. Probably something Erik would prefer to have buried. To be fair, there was quite an extensive list of things Erik would like to keep buried.

"Why are you here." Erik allowed his voice to drop to a more ominous octave as he squeezed the mans wrist, finally forcing him to drop the gun with a pained shriek. After a moment of gritting his teeth, the man glared at Erik, somehow having the gal to look the masked man in the eye. Deciding not to waste time, Erik pulled back his fist before allowing it to slam straight in the mans face. There was a crunch noise and Erik couldn`t hide the glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he noticed the broken form of the mans nose.

"Bastard!" the man hissed as he stumbled back, almost catching himself on a table but barely missing. Instead he knocked the candelabra off the table, forcing it to fall to the floor with a deep clang.

"Who. Sent. You." Erik was beginning to lose his patience as he moved forward, footsteps still silent as he inched closer. Subconsciously the masked man found it hilarious, the fact that each step he took forward resulted in the man staggering back to get away. Simply hilarious… well maybe not. Dammit, this was serious. This wasn`t some game, this was serious, and dangerous, and it may even become bloody. Erik shouldn`t be amused, much less completely enjoying the moment. Damned insanity.

Finally, he glared back at the man, his foot coming to rest on the stranger`s stomach. Ever so slightly he pressed the heel of his shoe in, watching the man squirm before gasping out at the pressure against his belly.

"So be it." Erik muttered, glancing back at where the gun had dropped. He ever so slowly crouched down, keeping his foot pinned on the man`s chest as he easily reached for the gun. It wasn`t too far, and smoothly he hovered it over the man`s head. Now, don`t misunderstand. Erik had no intention of shooting. Murder was something he hated to enjoy, and he tried to avoid it. He tried so hard to stray from the violence that dotted his path, yet now and then he would slip up. Still he wasn`t stupid. A gun could not deliver the clean execution Erik preferred. No, a gun was too brittle, too cold, too merciful. It would make an extremely noticeable sound, he doubted the music would drown out the sound of gunfire. Besides, there would be blood then, evidence all over his expensive carpets.

Luckily, he didn`t need to shoot. His expression alone convinced the stranger of his willingness, and after a moment of bitter hesitation the stranger spoke: "He sent me to kill you."

Unsurprisingly, Erik expected no less.

"Does this 'he' have a name?" the masked man asked quietly.

"I didn`t get his name. A letter, a job offering, and a whole lot of francs." The stranger explained bitterly, clearly hating the fact that he had to give up his secrets. "I had a history in this type of work, so the guy found out about me. He knew I wasn`t doing it no more, but he made me an offer I couldn`t resist. Besides, he told me what you did. I had to bring down many bastards in my life, but none of them deserved it as much as you."

"You don`t know anything." Erik sneered before deciding not to lose his cool. "Who sent you. On the letter, there must have been an address, a name."

The man shook his head before making another helpless attempt in getting away. In response Erik only rested more of his weight against the mans stomach.

"If you have no information of value to offer, I see no reason in your breathing." The masked man said the words rather calmly, retightening his grip on the gun for good measure.

"Revenge." The stranger finally muttered, "You killed his son."

" _Mousier composer?"_

Erik felt a surge of dread as he recognized that voice, and that horrid nickname. Removing his boot off the stranger, Erik took a few steps to the side before tossing the gun behind a shelf somewhere. Not knowing, or caring, where it went, he began acting completely nonchalant as the study door opened. Marina popped her head in, glancing around the room before smiling that signature smile. Silently she closed the door before walking towards the two men. The stranger was now on his feet, also acting ignorant towards what had happened.

"Will you introduce me to your friend?" she asked Erik before turning to the stranger, "Marina Altora. And you Mousier?"

"John." The stranger replied quickly, and Erik knew for a fact he had made the name up on the spot. Not a very creative name either. Personally, Erik would have gone with something a little more elegant. "Excuse me, but I must bid you both goodbye. Nice talking with you Destler." He faked a poor smile before heading out of the room, one arm tightly cradling his no doubt aching stomach. For a moment, Erik considered stopping him, but what good would that be? He can`t kill him in front of Marina, and if he called for the police, the stranger would tell them all about that… accident.

Accident was the word he preferred in turn of murder. He never intentionally meant to harm anyone, it was all a terrible accident.

There were still other questions Erik wanted to ask him, but he doubted he had the time or resources at the moment. The best thing would probably be for the man to leave his property, and by the looks of it, that was exactly what the stranger intended to do.

"Interesting friend you have Mousier composer." Marina said teasingly.

"Do not call me that." Was Erik`s unamused response.

"But it suit you." She began to speak in that broken French of hers. "Never mind it. I came to ask about new opera. I thought I was leading-lady for the opening shows."

"Well, if you were paying attention Mademoiselle, you would know that is no longer the case." Erik didn`t hide his annoyance. Excluding Christine, he had quite an attitude towards everyone else. Speaking of Christine, he felt a pang of worry. He had allowed a dangerous man to slip back into the ballroom. Probably, the stranger would do the smart thing and leave the property. But… what if he chose to stay? What if that stranger was in there right now, dancing with Christine, luring her away with lies and what not? Erik felt the concern within him build up and up as he began to walk towards the study`s door.

"Mousier!" Marina quickly blocked his path, her petite hands were placed against his shoulders. "I do not… understand. I did good, I did very good in last opera. Why not cast me again? You said you would."

"Get your hands off me." Erik replied curtly, and rather offensively really.

"She your wife yes, but you need to cast talented singers. Not ones you favour." She continued nonetheless, her bravery both annoying and angering Erik. "But if you are that type of man. I can help you favour me." That voice drop was what caught Erik off guard. The high-pitched and overly-excited voice he was used to hearing from her had suddenly transformed into a deeper, more huskier sound.

The masked man was about to say something when she pushed him back against a bookshelf, her fingers tightening around his jacket as she pressed her hips right up against him. Erik was both disgusted and intrigued.

But mostly disgusted.

Right?

Of, course….

"Not first time." She whispered, and somehow managed to make her irritating broken-French sound strangely inviting. "Not first time I have to make a man favour me. Impossible to climb up in this career without a little… insisting."

"There is always the option of talent and dedication." Erik decided to leave out the accusing bit in which he intended to call her a whore.

"Easy for man to say." She whispered before her fingers found the edge of his mask. Silently she toyed with it, and it was then that Erik realized what he was getting into. All sense of intrigue were erased from his mind and completely replaced with utter disgust. He firmly moved her away from him, straightening his jacket and adjusting his mask before striding towards the door.

"Mousier composer?" was her pathetic and surprised comment as he tore the door open, leaving her alone.

oOoOoOo

Christine had spent the better part of the evening dancing with many different men. Unfortunately, none of them were the man she did want to dance with. After Erik disappeared she tried to reach him, that plan, though, was cut short as some actor intercepted. He had introduced himself, asked for a dance, and they talked about his work. When she finally escaped him, she was caught by a musician, one that apparently worked for a nearby opera`s orchestra. Needless to say the pattern continued, everyone was quite interested in meeting the reclusive and genius composers, beautiful wife.

Just as she finished dancing with yet another man, she noticed Erik`s red costume lurking in the hall. He seemed as gloomy as ever, but there was something else, something restless about him that made her curious. Quickly, she escaped the dancefloor, managing to sidestep every dance offer that came her way.

Her eyes were then on her husband as she walked towards him, catching his eye as she ducked into the hallway.

"You ran off." She said slowly, "I… I`m sorry, I didn`t mean to offend you. It`s not like that, I swear. Raoul is just a good friend, it`s just comforting to know someone from my old life hasn`t left me."

The masked man didn`t reply, instead his dark eyes bored into hers, his lips angled in a semi-frown. He continued to have that restless look to him.

"Are you still mad? Erik please, I truly didn`t intend anything hurtful." She pleaded a little more. Her kind soul unable to bare the thought of hurting him so deeply.

"Christine…" he had moved so fast, she was barely able to react as he captured her lips in his own. Her entire body was flooded with the earthy, yet masculine scent of him. He was anxious and desperate against her, needy and exasperated all at the same time. It was quite addicting really, to be held so roughly yet treated so valuably. He parted from her a moment after. "Did I tell you how stunning you look in that gown?"

She smiled a relaxed smile.

"Do you enjoy this?" he became a bit more serious now, "This marriage. Being my wife. I truly strive to make you happy. I try to, at the very least."

"It is not in any way what I expected." She answered honestly, "But I don`t hate it. You are kind to me, caring, gentle. I only wish I knew why you think of me so fondly."

He kissed her again, a little more urgently this time.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered the question against her lips, his expression unreadable.

"Though you keep many secrets, you haven`t given me a reason to doubt you." She answered before asking her own question; "Why do you ask? Is something the matter?"

"Let us suppose I have done things. Questionable things. Would you still trust me?"

"Erik, what are you talking about?"

"Never mind my rambling." He slowly lifted her chin up, placing a more chaste kiss on her lips. He was being so touchy, and truth be told, Christine couldn`t help but react. Every time his cold, gloved fingers graced her she couldn`t help but shudder inside. He always touched her gently, but there was a certain power behind it, a certain dominance she both loved and feared. And each time he kissed her, the tingling would start right there with that kiss. Somehow it would spread around inside her until she felt all hot and anxious.

Anxious for what, she did not know.

All she did know was she longed to be touched a little more.

They reclined further down the hall, making it so they were as far as could be from the celebrating that occurred in the main room. Christine watched as Erik glanced behind himself carefully before turning to her with a sympathetic smile. She shook as he reached under her gown, bunching it all up in his arms as he was allowed access to her thighs. She practically shivered at the contact of his fingers in her soft skin, forcing herself to stay still as his fingers danced up to her corset.

As his hands explored her body, his lips found hers once again. They shared a few quick kisses before his lips descended down her neck, eliciting tiny mewls from the panicking Christine. She just felt so anxious and restless, terrified but needy at the same time. It was so confusing, everything felt so muddled, but so… good?

The girl couldn`t resist the cry that escaped her lips as he gently bit the area her neck and shoulder met. He continued to play with her, soft touches here, his lips brushing her there. She felt the tension building, and she wanted to be touched more. God, if they were anywhere a bit more private, she would have gladly given up her virginity just to be touched a bit more. It was so odd, how the heat of the moment could completely change your morals.

She was just so darn desperate.

" _Erik_." She whispered his name, her voice laced with a certain lust she didn`t recognize. Good lord she probably sounded like a needy, little whore. It was humiliating, she was humiliating herself. Yet still, she couldn`t help the urgency of it all.

No, no, no.

She needed to stop. She had too. She wasn`t ready for this, she didn`t want any of this. It was all Erik`s doing! Seducing her like this. Would God ever forgive her?

Christine suddenly realized something.

He was her husband, obviously, this was what was intended to happen. This wasn`t some awful sin. In fact, this was a good thing. This is what married couples are supposed to do.

Just as she was about to completely succumb to him he moved away, dropping her gown before adjusting himself. She was about to say something when she noticed Carlyle enter the hallway. How in the world Erik had heard him coming beforehand, she would never know.

"Ah, there you are Master Erik." Carlyle greeted his master before turning to Christine and nodding his head politely. "The musicians are ready to pack up. I just want to confirm with you before I send them off. Is the masquerade ready to end?"

"The sooner the better." Erik said with just the right amount of attitude before turning to the breathless Christine before him. "I believe you are quite tired my dear. To bed then?" he asked her with a certain glint in his eye. A certain, amused glint that made the girl swallow her shame. Perhaps that was enough excitement for one night.


End file.
